


Rock Bottom

by renegade_of_theworld



Series: From the Ashes [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (but not really), (he gets it), Aftermath of Torture, All roads lead to Gaoling, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Caretaking, Episode: s02e07 Zuko Alone, Found Family, Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injured Zuko (Avatar), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scribe Zuko, Slow Burn, Starvation, Trauma, Whump, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko can't lie to save his life, Zuko is not happy so be aware of dark topics, he still cant accept help though, healing process, racism (not a main topic but it's there), there is humor hidden somwhere!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegade_of_theworld/pseuds/renegade_of_theworld
Summary: Zuko is declared a traitor by the Fire Nation and considered an enemy by other nations. After escaping General Fong's prison, he's severely injured and on the run in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. Before worrying about his questionable future he has to survive first.ORIt's a very extended version of Zuko Alone episode. He's trying to survive and deal with his shitty situation and he meets some weirdly nice enemies (read Earth Kingdom people)
Relationships: Zuko & Earth Kingdom, Zuko & Kindness, Zuko & Struggling
Series: From the Ashes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880728
Comments: 1771
Kudos: 1124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!!
> 
> The beginning is kinda recap - like Zuko had to think about ALL the shit right? So don't worry if you forgot something there is a high chance it will be somewhere there!! In this one "hurt/comfort" is for real not like in the previous lmao
> 
> AND if you just like 'Zuko Alone' you can enjoy it as well --> a fast sum-up in the notes below. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :) 
> 
> * if you find any funny word choice or something just strange forgive me and feel free to point out in the comments.  
> I'm not a native English speaker ✌

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to read the story without reading the first part (which I really encourage you to do :D) I will put a fast sum-up in the notes below.

_Traitor._

There had been a time in Zuko’s life when even _thinking bad_ about the Fire Nation had been unacceptable for him. He’d admired Fire Lord Ozai in every possible way. At the war meeting, Zuko had accused _that_ general of _betraying_ their loyal soldiers. He’d really believed it had been the right thing to do – spoken up for the ones who couldn’t. Because Zuko couldn’t have allowed _betraying_ the Fire Nation’s citizens.

It had been proved to him that he’d been wrong.

Ripped out of his honor he’d wandered through the world trying to redeem himself in Father’s eyes. Zuko had never said it out loud but he’d thought he’d been doing good… After the injury had healed (still too early according to the medic and Uncle) he’d started training – firstly with his swords and when he could be around the fire again, he’d started his firebending training. And besides, he’d been commanding the entire ship (with Uncle and Jee’s help) which wasn’t that easy; he’d learned some ship chores and navigating techniques. Zuko had seen so many places, he’d been sure that when he’d finally come home the information, he had could be useful in some way. So even if he hadn’t captured the Avatar, he’d hadn’t been useless.

But then the Avatar had returned and all of this no longer mattered.

Zuko hadn’t thought that breaking into Pouhai Stronghold was something _traitorous_ … He’d been thinking only about the fact that if Zhao had delivered the Avatar to the Fire Lord, Zuko wouldn’t have any chance to came home. He would’ve been banished… _forever_. He hadn’t worked against the Fire Nation! Maybe he’d been egoistic and hadn’t put the good of the Fire Nation above his own desire… but he hadn’t tried to help the Avatar in any way. _He hadn’t worked against the Fire Nation…_

After three long years, he’d been so close… _Soo fucking close…_

If only Zhao hadn’t seen those swords… The man even when dead had managed to made Zuko’s life more miserable. If not the _swords_ … He wouldn’t have any more evidence and he wouldn’t have written to Father…

And here he was…

Declared a traitor – _deservedly_ , but he didn’t like to admit it – somewhere in the Earth Kingdom limping from a tree to tree with pulsing pain in his temples and in the rest of his body as well. With no hope of coming back home. Zuko doubted Father would _ever_ forgive him for being such an embarrassment to their bloodline. Maybe the Avatar would be enough to redeem himself… But now it was a bad moment to think about this.

Zuko stumbled over a root and barely supported himself over the nearest tree. Resigned, he looked over his shoulder, he could still see his previous rest-point. Zuko made one more limped-step, teeth clenched from stabbing pain in his thigh, and leaned with his good shoulder over the tree. There was no point in sitting down – standing up again would require way too much effort. He growled frustrated but regretted it immediately when too much air escaped his lungs too quickly and his bruised ribs _screamed_.

As soon as he managed to stand up after the Avatar left him near the colony Zuko started his run away – or _limp away_. The Fire Nation was so close – colonies weren’t exactly like home, but the familiarity was enough to make Zuko’s heart hurt – and he had to flee into the enemy’s territory. But again – _escape_ wasn’t the right word to use…

His head hurt and his vision swayed a little sometimes when the move was too rapid. It could be either exhaustion or a concussion, but he’d had a couple of concussions in his life and it had felt different, so he preferred to stick to the more optimistic version. But Zuko wasn’t optimistic about his ribs though; they had to be fractured ore at least one of them. Breathing hurt too much, so it couldn’t be only bruised. Bruises were all over his body in the places when rocks that had been thrown by non-benders hit him. But those bruises weren’t that bad though. The worst one was on his middle-thigh where the bender hit twice. Zuko couldn’t touch the place and every step equaled the feeling of being stabbed. At least the bone hasn’t been broken because he could still somehow moved his leg.

He has been walking for around four hours. The sun slowly started to disappear behind the horizon and Zuko didn’t like it. Feeling rays on his skin was helping – maybe not physically but feeling warmness in his chest was the only pleasant thing at the moment so he didn’t want it to disappear. For Zuko’s peace of mind, he was still too close to the colony. He hoped that he remembered his geography lessons well enough and he wasn’t heading in Fong’s base direction… This time the earthbenders would put him in chains or simply kill since he wasn’t a valuable hostage anymore. More likely the second option… Unless the colonel would be involved…

The time for resting was over. The forest became less dense a couple of stops ago and Zuko hoped he would left it soon. He had to finally sleep at some point, and he didn’t want to do it in the forest, unable to climb somewhere safe. The first steps were challenging. He had to get used to the pain once again and swallow the nausea it caused. Zuko already invented a rather effective limping-tactic that relieved his most aching spots.

Zuko tried to clear his thoughts and fully focus on staying upright but sooner or later his mind wandered to Colonel Huong.

The man Zuko _did not_ understand – _in any way_.

Firstly, he had been actually _nice_ to him and it hadn’t been a trick (most likely). He’d been reading him a play, _for Agni’s sake_! And he hadn’t used _Zuko’s pathetic display of weakness_ against him – he’d acted like it was _fine_. And he hadn’t killed him for burning his arm (the smell of burned flesh hadn’t been helpful when he’d been trying to collect himself on the cell floor). _Spirits…_ the colonel had actually promised him medical help after this all! _What was wrong with this man?_

Zuko didn’t trust his memories from after ‘ _the rocks incident’_ fully – they were too ridiculous to be real. In one moment, he had been curling on the rough floor and in the other he had been leaning over the colonel’s side… Had the man _carried_ him there? And had the colonel asked him those weird questions? The more Zuko thought about it, the more humiliating details he remembered.

And the worst thing was that Zuko had felt safe then – half delirious from pain and shock but the colonel’s arms were _safe_.

Huong was a _father_. Zuko has never felt safe with _fathers_.

He didn’t understand anything. Fathers weren’t supposed to put up with a child’s irrational behaviors, or disobedience, or not-being-good-enough... Like it was nothing. Of course, Zuko wasn’t Huong’s son but that made everything even worse. _Why did his enemy act like that?_

Huong had something irrational in him… just like Uncle.

Zuko shook his head – which wasn’t a good idea – and scolded himself for absorbing his thoughts with _some stupid earthbender_. He should’ve been thinking about how to make things right in the future, not overthinking past events that, _again_ , hadn’t got any logical explanation.

Zuko’s limp-step finally lead him to an open area. There was a shallow canyon, but it became deeper with distance. Zuko didn’t want to enter it. The descent was gentle, but he couldn’t be sure he would be able to find an approachable way out. He wasn’t in any shape to climb any slopes. There was the other way alongside the cliff. Theoretically, he could use it but there was only a narrow path between the cliff and the hill.

The canyon, the narrow path, or coming back to the forest…

Zuko chose the narrow path. He hoped he would find some cave in the hillside he could sleep in. Exhaustion mixed with pain was starting to win over his abnegation. So, he limped towards the path, praying it wouldn’t get narrower than it already was. Since he had no trees to lean over, he would have to keep his balance by himself. But it was fine. He had to keep moving.

 _He had to keep moving_.

* * *

Zuko was doing fine.

His leg slowly started to kill him, but he could manage the pain a little bit longer… There had to be some cave or a little wider piece of even, not so exposed ground for him to rest. But the path became narrower when the sun hid behind the horizon and Zuko could barely see it. He considered lighting a small flame but decided not to. If someone spotted him firebending he would be dead.

Zuko’s steps were already slow but he’d slowed even more trying to carefully choose the ground to step onto. He tried to lean on the hill side as much as he could when the path narrowed to a two-feet span. In case of eventual fall, Zuko didn’t see the bottom of the canyon. He didn’t know if he walked above an abyss or just some ditch. He preferred not to know.

When he made another step with his bad leg the ground slipped.

And Zuko was falling.

White pain enlightened his vision when he was violently rolling _down._ Air had been knocked out of his lungs completely with the first impact on his bruised chest. He didn’t have any control over his body, he was just rolling down, and everything hurt, and he was dizzy, and he couldn’t catch on to something to prevent the fall…

Zuko didn’t dare to move. Everything somehow ended – even the pain that he’d become so familiar with. He wanted this peace to last a little longer… _Was he dead?_

There was a distant voice like someone was speaking from behind a thick curtain. “Shit… Is he dead?”

Then his senses suddenly came back with all _the pain_ and all he could do was squeeze his eyes tighter and groan. Zuko didn’t dare to move even a bit. Everything was already radiating with sharp pain he didn’t want to know how much worse would it became if he moved. It was highly possible that he was buried under something, his limbs bend in strange positions, but he didn’t want to move…

Zuko moaned when he tried to inhale and decided that it wasn’t worth an effort to try again. He felt like he would throw up when he moved his head even a little. He wasn’t even sure if he laid face up or down. _At this point, he didn’t care…_

“Shit! He’s alive! _Shit… shit…_ Gimme some light over there!”

“You sure he’s alive?” Suddenly the world became brighter, even with his squeezed eyelids.

“Just bring that damn torch!”

Something was lifted from his chest. “He’s got creepers all over him!” someone complained and Zuko felt something being pulled from under him. “Boy, you there?” Something pulled on his leg and he whimpered when he moved his thigh. “ _For fuck’s sake_ , Shan! Careful.”

And suddenly it came to him that someone was here. Someone was almost touching him when he was defenseless. Zuko jerked awake with a louder groan and supported himself on his good elbow. His whole body screamed but he desperately tried to crawl away from those people.

“Stay away from me!” Zuko intended it to be a shout but it turned out to be a whine.

The person with the torch jumped startled but the other one was standing still. He could only see their shadowed figures. _There was a fire source_. In the last resort, he could use it, but it would reveal him as a firebender…

“Whoa! Easy there, Avalanche Boy,” one of the shadows was a woman. She stood on his right _too close_ to him. The one with the torch stood slightly behind her. “We want to help.”

 _“Do we?”_ questioned the _boy_ with the torch.

“ _How nice of you_ , Shan, that you volunteered.” She grabbed the torch from the boy’s hands and its light blinded Zuko. He wanted to cover his eyes, but it would require too much movement, so he only turned his head, scarred side away from the fire. The woman took a step backward. “Come on, help him up. You can’t lay here all night, Avalanche Boy.”

The boy sighed and moved forward. “Do some bedroom-rodeo with Moosha, your motherly instincts are showing off.”

 _“Fuck you,_ you dirty bastard!”

“I’m not a _bastard_ and you know this.”

The woman swung her torch and growled. Zuko flinched at the sudden movement but none of them seemed to notice. “With my holy sister… not likely,” she admitted. “Just shut up and help him.”

Zuko struggled to follow their conversation - which didn’t make any sense to him - when the boy tried to grab Zuko’s hands and pull him up. His reflex was too slow to prevent what came next…

A loud cry escaped Zuko’s mouth and echoed through the canyon. The boy jumped back and Zuko pressed his arm to his chest and moaned. “Back off!” Zuko snarled through clenched teeth.

“He’s rude. I’m not helping rude people,” said the boy.

“He’s injured, you dumb idiot,” fumed the woman and patted the boy over his head. Then she crouched next to Zuko, still keeping a small distance though. “We don’t have a stretcher, boy. You have to help us if you don’t want to lay here all night. Your shoulder is a _no_ , as I see,” said the woman eyeing him. “What about the other one?”

Zuko’s throbbing temples slowed his thinking but it was pretty clear that he hadn’t got any other choice than did what that the two wanted him to and praying they weren’t going to turn him in… _Either to the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation…_

“Mhmm…” Zuko wheezed through clenched teeth, already preparing himself for coming agony.

The woman turned to the boy that crossed his arms, looking impatient. “Shan… _Gently_ this time.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and crouched on Zuko’s right. He turned his head even if it equaled a wave of nausea. “You ready? On three then… One, two, and… _three…_ ”

The boy, Shan, grabbed his good shoulder and with some pained moans helped him to sit. After that, he put Zuko’s arm over his neck and started to lift him upright. Zuko tried as much as he could to muffle his moans and whimpers, but it didn’t work. Black spots danced all over his vision.

“ _Huh_ , you aren’t so heavy,” said Shan, supporting most of Zuko’s weight while he was clenching his side with his bad arm. The sharp movement and being partly lifted by the higher man, made his ribs shift painfully and his breath became shallow. “ _Thank you_ , would be nice but… yeah, whatever.”

The woman lifted the torch in a way that most of its light was on Zuko. He turned his head, the scarred side away from the light, and squeezed his eyes. “Did you travel with someone else?” asked the woman.

Zuko slowly adjusted his sight to the light and looked at her. She had a massive bun on her head, but it was all he could see in this light. “N – no.”

“Then you can come with us. We have a camp nearby,” she said, not waiting for Zuko’s response. “You’ve got a name, or you want me to keep calling you Avalanche Boy?”

Zuko wanted to say that he didn’t want to come with them, that they shouldn’t invite _him_ anywhere, that he didn’t have anything to pay them back. It all could be a trap – at least then he wouldn’t have to think about paying back… Why did the women insist on taking him with them?

The woman was patiently looking at him. Waiting for his _name_ … Zuko didn’t know many Earth Kingdom names, especially now when his head was buzzing, and his thoughts were slowed by pain. “I’m… I’m… _Lee_. I’m Lee,” he gasped. _It seemed to be more common than ‘Huong’._

“And I’m Heren,” said the woman. “And _the brat_ is named Shan.”

Hearing that _Shan_ violently pointed his finger in the woman’s – _Heren_ – direction. “I’m no longer a kid! Stop calling me that!” Apparently, Shan liked gesticulating while speaking… what ended in jolting Zuko’s body. Zuko swallowed the first moan but when Shan shrugged a pained whimper escaped his lips. “Oh… Shit, sorry man,” he said sheepishly.

“Let’s head to the camp. I’m fucking freezing here,” complained Heren.

“ _You_ are the one with the torch!” exclaimed Shan but this time – _thankfully –_ he didn’t shake Zuko.

Heren turned on her heel and smirked. “After me boys.”

Shan gripped Zuko’s wrist so his arm wouldn’t slip from his shoulder and made the first step. Without a bit of awkwardness, Shan put his other arm around Zuko waist to support him even further. Zuko tensed at the contact but he couldn’t do anything about it, because without Shan he would’ve simply collapsed. So, he put as much effort as he could to try to walk a bit by himself, nonetheless, he was mostly carried by the taller figure.

After a couple of steps, he focused more on just stopping himself from making noises. _Agni… he was so exhausted._ And the canyon was just pure darkness except for the torch. _How far was this camp exactly?_

“You good there, Lee?” asked Shan. He had to felt that with every meter he had to carry more of Zuko’s weight. Zuko panicked tried to try to walk by himself again but failed and gasped quietly. “You want to rest for a moment?” Shan asked.

Hearing that Heren stopped and turned to them. Zuko was suddenly panicked because of all _the attention he didn’t want_. “No,” he gasped – _it didn’t sound very convincing_. “We can keep moving.” This short sentence ran him out of breath completely and he prayed so they won’t ask anything else.

The woman pointed with her torch to the right. “The camp is just around this corner.”

Zuko nodded and they moved forward. As they approached the corner, some light began to cast shadows onto rocky walls and Zuko heard muffled _voices_. His heart began a panic cacophony, and he felt rising fear. _This wasn’t good…_ Being at the mercy of these two was bad enough… His experience with being outnumbered in the Earth Kingdom was _bad_.

There was a shallow open cave, with a blazing firepit in the middle, and two men sitting around it. They had had a conversation earlier but now their full focus was on Zuko.

“Who is he?” asked the younger of them, which didn’t mean he was _young_. He was a grown adult with a bulky posture, so characteristic for earthbenders… The other one looked very old, he had a haggard posture, but his gaze was sharp and _judging_.

Heren stepped forward and kissed in the cheek the man that asked a question. “The Avalanche wasn’t in fact an avalanche… Lee decided to roll from the cliff,” she said with a smile, but the man didn’t look assured. Then Heren turned to look at Zuko and she froze.

_Zuko stiffened._

It was the first time they saw him in full light. It couldn’t have been possible to look more obviously Fire Nation than him – pale skin, dark hair, and golden eyes that were clearly noticeable in the warm firelight. _Was it that obvious?_ He tried not to panic, but the old man’s gaze sent shivers down his spine. The probably-earthbender and Heren were looking right at Zuko’s scar and he just wanted to disappear. With wide eyes he looked at them, judging who would attack or do _something_ first…

Heren shook her head and came back to a neutral expression. “Shan, help him to sit,” she said perfectly calm like the previous three seconds of petrified silence didn’t happen. “Over there,” she pointed on the back of the cave – somewhere where he would be the most trapped, “would be the best.”

Zuko’s fear escalated, he was still held by Shan so he couldn’t do anything other than moving along with the man. His throat was clenched by panic and he only waited for those people to _snap_ at him for simply _existing_ – like it already has happened in the past.

Shan lowered him onto the ground and a _pathetic moan_ escaped his lips when his ribs shifted, again. Shan muttered apologies and released Zuko’s arm. It was the first time they could look at each other in the full light. Shan had to be in his early twenties, his blonde hair tied into a small ponytail at the back of his neck…

Shan rapidly stepped back, rubbing his neck, and looking straight at Zuko’s scar. _Zuko was close to throwing up_. It felt like gazes of all four of them were ripping holes in his entire body and he just wanted to shrink. The anticipation of all this was the worst like they couldn’t just already –

“You wanna tea, Lee?” asked Heren smiling tentatively at him. _Well, it wasn’t the question he’d expected_. “It’s lukewarm but it shouldn’t taste too bad.”

Zuko eyed all of them to check if he wasn’t hallucinating the proposition. Shan sat next to the old guy and smiled at him, but it looked forced. The old guy frowned, and his expression didn’t change a bit. The might-be-earthbender was looking at him stern expression but he was no longer focusing only on the scar.

“ _Lee?_ ” repeated Heren kindly and Zuko almost jumped, his heart speeded again.

“Um… Yes. I – I would like to,” he said automatically. The terrible rasp covered the tremble in his voice.

Heren poured a cup and handed it to him. Zuko reached for it with his good arm… it was _shaking_. He was awfully aware that everyone saw how he couldn’t take the cup without spilling the tea on his fingers. Zuko gipped the cup in both hands and looked at the ground. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“No problem,” Heren said lightly and started talking to the rest of them about some marketplace. Others joined the conversation, and the full attention wasn’t longer right on him. But it was obvious that Shan and the adult looked at him suspiciously once in a while, and the old man kept glaring at Zuko every time he raised his head a bit.

Zuko didn’t know what it all meant. He didn’t know why did they help him. And he didn’t know if they wanted to keep helping him after they saw how he looked. Zuko had learned the hard way that being Fire Nation didn’t end well anyway besides its borders. There was no way they recognized him… right? _No, no, no…_

Zuko had no idea what to do with his limbs and he awkwardly bent his good leg closer to his chest. Panic has always made him self-conscious. He couldn’t let himself lost his mind. Anything wasn’t sure yet. Zuko tried to follow their conversation but it was meaningless. They didn’t even ask him what did he do here. _It was too suspicious…_ He felt how his breaths were getting out of his control…

He forced himself into half-meditative breathing – a compromise between a proper technique and his bruised chest. Every four breaths he took a sip of the tea – he repeated the sequence on and on. It seemed to work. Zuko hasn’t raised his gaze since he started, because he was positive that the old man’s glare could freak him out once again.

Zuko knew he couldn’t let himself fall asleep with this bunch of strangers around him. He could manage one more day without a proper rest…

But then his eyelids became heavy, and every blink was a struggle… He closed his eyes only for a moment, but the darkness was so comforting that he forgot he was supposed to open them again…

* * *

The cup fell out of the stranger’s hands and their conversation suddenly stopped. They looked at each other tensed.

“You added something into his tea, my love,” said Moosha his tone not accusatory but not approving either. Heren simply nodded. “He won’t wake up?”

“Not until the morning, at least,” answered Heren.

Laohun rubbed his hand’s stump, looking at the sleeping figure. “He looks _Fire Nation_.”

Nobody denied it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fire's Out But Still It Burns --> Zuko didn't escape the NP after the siege, then got interrogated by Pakku (tortures, Pakku not being cool and whipping), then Gaang decided to take him to the EK prison. The flight was, um let's say awkward but no one died so... They gave Zuko to Fong who threatened with many vicious things but other than that Zuko was treated well. There was a certain guard - Huong - that was kind of important (read it what can I say). Then shit went wild with the Avatar state business, Zuko got pretty beaten, and Aang left him on a mossy grass and flew away on his glider :))) Oh, and Iroh is absent for the whole story.
> 
> That's it but really go and read it :)))))


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to make updated once a week but no promises!

_“He looks Fire Nation.”_

Silence loomed over their campsite disturbed only by the wood quietly cracking in the firepit, crickets somewhere in the distance, and the stranger’s quiet but heavy breaths. His ragged clothes stained with blood in some places matched the blood, smeared from his hairline to his jaw. But it was the scar that had left her speechless a couple of minutes ago. And the worst was that _this boy looked young…_

“I thought we were helping some clumsy, overreacting idiot who rolled from the cliff, not a half-dead teen…” said Heren looking at Shan.

Shan briefly looked at the boy that he basically had carried here on his back. “So was I,” he admitted a little distressed.

Heren once again looked at Lee’s bruised face. “This boy didn’t do this to himself just by falling,” she stated and looked at Moosha awaiting a confirmation.

“I doubt that,” said Moosha. “Canyon walls are mostly sandy, besides his face wouldn’t bruised this quickly. Also, the way he held himself indicates that his injuries aren’t _that_ fresh.”

Heren hated the tone her husband always used when talking about any medical-related issues. It was washed out of any empathy or kindness, it contained only pure facts and critical analysis. Heren wanted to yell at him for being so cold-hearted. But at the same time, she knew Moosha had taken this approach to stay sane when people had been dying on his daily routine.

“He’s got ashmakers’ eyes,” snarled Laohun.

“ _So what?_ ” Heren challenged him immediately. She already knew the conversation would escalate. “He’s probably half-breed, what is totally irrelevant at this moment.”

Laohun’s wrinkles deepened and the frown so familiar to Heren appeared on his face. “Exactly that! He has _fire-blood_ in his veins!”

“As far as I see,” Heren pointed at the sleeping figure – on his face to be specific, “his blood is as red as ours.

 _Oh, here it comes..._ Heren was too familiar with this expression of her father.

“You know what I mean!” the old man fumed. “They are _rotted_ from the inside, Heren! Fire Nation can not be trusted!” Laohun waved his stump violently almost punching Shan in the face. “Mixed breeds are even worst! They can pretend but they won’t fool _me_! “

Heren raised to her knees. She was partly glad, partly not that the fire separated her from her father… she was very close to strangling that man. “This boy has half of his face burned off. _Burned off!_ Or is he just pretending to fucking fool you?!”

“This only proves my point what the fire-blood means!” spitted Laohun, his voice with a characteristic rasp for times when he wanted to yell but his throat didn’t let him. “Half-breeds have it inside of them! You never know when they reveal it!”

Heren closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calming breath. She felt Moosha’s hand on her thigh like he was afraid she will jump through this fire after all – highly possible to be honest. Heren once again looked at the subject of this argument, unaware of everything around him.

Heren looked at her father and focused on _not yelling_. “Dad, I love you, but I won’t stand listening to your _fucking bullshit_ a damn second more!” _So much of not yelling…_ Heren felt Moosha’s hand squeezing a bit tighter. On her left Lee slightly moved in his sleep. “How on earth,” Heren started again, a little calmer this time, “is it this boy’s fault that his mother or father fucked some firescums’ soldier?! “Heren didn’t want to say out loud the darker possibility of _rape_. The world was cruel – things like that happened. “Either way the fire side wasn’t fond of the boy if he’s here! Again, Father, do you see his fucking scar, _for fuck’s sake!?_ ”

“Wait…” interrupted Shan. “Are you suggesting his fire-parent did this to him?”

This possibility crossed her mind… but there too many unknowns to just assume. Most likely it had been a fire bender’s job, but it could be anyone who had been unhappy with procreating mixed brat. Or this could’ve been just a regular skirmish and the boy had happened to be in the middle of it…

_No, stop it._

The boy’s story definitely wasn’t her business and assuming it had no point.

 _Heren’s business_ was to not let her father be an asshole just because of the kid’s appearance. She could tolerate Laohun being an _old prick_ but not an _arrogant racist_.

“I’m not suggesting anything! It’s not our fucking business! What I am saying is that this boy knows the cruelty of the Fire Nation better than any of us even if he fucking looks like them!” Laohum growled hearing that statement and pointed his stump into Heren but she didn’t finish yet. “Don’t you try to interrupt me! You were a grown man when this happened, and you were a soldier! Of-fucking-course I won’t belittle this. _No…_ But Lee is a boy. _A boy_. Feel free to cut my hand off if he’s older than eighteen. His scar is _old_ , right Moosha?”

Moosha looked at Lee’s face. “I can’t judge precisely from the distance but I’m sure it’s older than a year.”

Laohun was glaring at the sleeping figure and it was clear he wouldn’t change his mind. _What a stupid old prick!_ Heren really tried to understand that he’d been growing up in other reality and living in a place so close to the Fire Nation’s front wasn’t easy but… _racist bullshit just drove her mad!_

“There’s still a question _why_ he is in this condition,” pointed Moosha.

Heren’s breathe caught in her throat when the thought came to her mind…

“He’s around _drafting age_ …” whispered Heren. “I doubt he’s wealthy enough to get away from it…”

Laohun spitted – _actually fucking spitted_ – into the fire. “Half-breed and a coward!”

If Heren was an earthbender, she would throw her own father into some deep hole and burry him there. _Breathe in, breathe out_. Moosha’s soothing hand on her leg forbidding her from jumping through the bonfire.

“The army isn’t fond of half-breeds you both know this.” She looked at Moosha, who nodded slightly, and then at her father, whose frown deepened. “After a hundred years no one stayed saint. This boy wouldn’t have had a chance to survive the army.”

“Anyone with questionable roots hadn’t had it easy,” admitted Moosha.

“And I doubt he would like to be anywhere near the fire after that injury. If he’s a deserter I’m fucking fine with this.” Heren glared and her father who scowled at her.

Heren was ready to continue the argument when Shan cleared his throat to gain their attention.

“Um, there is a possibility that, well, he’s a convict… I mean it would explain why he’s all beaten up, and alone in the middle of nowhere…”

“What made you think that?” asked Heren.

Shan lifted his hand and put it closer to the fire. His palm was covered in dried blood. “When I dragged him there, I was holding his wrist… and he, um, had a wound there. Firstly, I didn’t mind that much since he’s overall pretty beaten but… It was very an after-the-handcuffs-like wound.”

Normally Heren would be more alarmed by that statement but once again she looked at the sleeping, mysterious boy…

“Even if… Forgive me for doubting the system. _War fucked us all_ ,” she sighed sadly. “Guys, why don’t we wait until tomorrow with any conclusions?”

“Sure thing, I didn’t drag him all the way here for nothing,” shrugged Shan. “But Heren, why did you drug him exactly? I’m starting to be afraid of you.”

 _Drugged_ was a strong word… Heren simply mixed certain plants to gain the wanted outcome.

 _“You should.”_ She smiled wickedly. She has never made any poison, but it didn’t mean she didn’t know how… _She knew_. But it wasn’t the time for bragging about her hidden skills. “I gave him something for pain and sleep. He was terrified of us… Didn’t you see that?”

“And you drugged him to make him less terrified?” Shan raised his eyebrow.

“I know how it sounds… but _he won’t know that_.” Moosha looked at her from the corner of his eye but she continued. “I didn’t want to deal with his corpse in the morning. He wouldn’t have rest… either because of pain or our _glares_. Guys, _please_ , I agree that we shouldn’t trust a suspicious kid only out of pity but before we know _anything_ let’s act like decent human beings, shall we?”

Moosha put his arm around her and she leaned to his touch. “We will talk with him tomorrow, my love. But I doubt he will tell us anything and it’s better not to push him too hard… As long as he won’t do anything alarming, I’m ok with taking him with us.”

Heren looked her husband in the eyes and… _oh spirits_. She just loved this man – no more words needed. She looked at Shan to hear his _young_ opinion on this.

“Yeah, sure whatever… Our _amazing_ trip was becoming boring after all.”

“Dad?” Heren raised her eyebrow and looked at her father. “Just please stop glaring at him every time he moves. Is it too much to ask?”

“We will regret tolerating half-breeds.”

“ _Dad_.”

“Whatever,” he growled and turned from the fire grabbing his sleeping bag.

Heren rested her head on Moosha’s shoulder. “Hold me or I will strangle this old racist in his sleep,” she whispered.

Moosha smirked and closed his arms around her.

* * *

The sun loomed in the space between the cave roof and canyon wall – it has to be at least two hours past the sunrise.

Zuko had fallen asleep surrounded by a bunch of strangers… _Where were his self-preservation instincts?_ By some miracle, it seemed that he was still alive. 

He opened his eyes but didn’t move – he didn’t want to draw any attention or make any unexpected cry of pain. It hadn’t disappeared through the night, maybe only eased a bit. Heren and the boy that dragged him here – _Shun or Shen was his name?_ – were bustling around dying bonfire with bowls in their hands. The probably-bender wasn’t there, and the old man sat in the same position that Zuko had seen him the last time

Heren started to put food into the bowls and her gaze casually drifted past Zuko, he wasn’t expecting it and he didn’t close his eyelids on time. Heren raised her brows in surprise and, on purpose, this time, looked at Zuko. “Mornin’ Lee! You hungry?” she asked.

Zuko hasn’t eaten… since yesterday morning. _He was hungry_.

“I’m – “ Zuko’s rasp changed his voice into a rough whisper and he cringed hearing it. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m good.”

“ _Pity…_ ” shrugged Heren, she didn’t look bothered. “I already made a portion for you. It’s not gonna waste.”

Shifting his position wasn’t easy and he winced when his ribs moved. Using only one arm and leg didn’t make it any easier. Shun – _or Shin?_ – was holding two steaming bowls and handed one of them to the old guy, with the other one he turned to Zuko.

“Here you go,” he said, keeping the bowl within Zuko’s reach.

Zuko panicked and looked at the bowl, then at the boy holding it, and finally at Heren. “I – I don’t have anything to pay you back.” The food’s smell so close to his nose made his stomach twist and he hoped they couldn’t hear strange sounds it made.

Heren smiled. “Don’t worry! It’s on the house,” she said like it was normal for her to serve food to everyone she met in the canyon.

Accepting the bowl felt _wrong_. Zuko took it, staring at the ground, desperately trying to avoid any eye-contact. They were just some random Earth Kingdom peasants and he shouldn’t felt bad for taking advantage of them _… but they helped him_. Zuko didn’t understand why but they did.

Zuko raised his gaze checking if someone were already eating and noticed the probably-bender entering the cave. Heren gave him a bowl with exactly the same amount of food that Zuko get. Everyone sat around the dying campfire and started to eat, so Zuko did the same. The texture of the food was strange and mushy, but it tasted fine. His hand shook less than yesterday but still, it was visible, and he was sure they noticed.

“I doubt we introduced ourselves properly…” said Heren and put another portion of food into her mouth. _Apparently not talking while eating wasn’t a thing in the Earth Kingdom_. She chewed and swallowed before she continued. “I’m Heren,” she pointed at herself with her chopsticks, “my husband Moosha,” she pointed at the probably-bender who sat at her right, “Laohun is my father,” she waved at the old guy who was more concerned about his food than this introduction, “and Shan is _kinda_ our cousin.”

“Yeah, let’s stick to _kinda_ ,” agreed Shan and then waved at Zuko. “Hello, that’s me. Shan.”

Zuko bowed his head witch felt _wrong_ – but he was no longer a prince so it _shouldn’t have_ … These people have shown him unjustifiable hospitality and – _if he wanted it or not_ – he was in debt to them. “I’m Lee,” he said more confidently this time. Zuko had a feeling that he would have to get familiar with introducing like this… “Thank… thank you for yesterday,” he said ashamed by being forced to _thank his enemies_ but if not them, he wouldn’t have picked himself up.

Heren took another bite and spoke without chewing. “Our pleasure. But y’know… How did you end up down here?” Heren asked in a slightly different tone than before.

And at this moment, it hit Zuko how stupid he really was…

Four fucking hours of walking through the woods and he hadn’t thought that he needed a damn fake story… _Shit, shit, shit_ … Heren was looking at him expecting an answer and he was _so bad_ at making things at whim.

“I, um, I… I was walking, and – and it was too narrow, and the ground slipped and… I mean… I slipped, as well,” he mumbled.

Heren chuckled. “It’s quite obvious that you didn’t jump for fun. The question is why did you wander alone in the middle of nowhere,” she pointed out casually but there was a bit of suspicion in her tone.

Everyone was looking at him. Zuko felt drops of sweat forming on his forehead. He couldn’t say he escaped – _or was broke out by the Avatar?_ – from prison. Even without going into the details, he couldn’t admit he was in prison!

“I – I, um,” _think, think, think,_ “I’m trying… to _,” to what?! What would Azula say?_ “To get further from the colony.”

 _Half-truths then_ … But this one was good, _he hoped?_ They couldn’t accuse him of that… Earth Kingdom citizen wouldn’t want to be close to the Fire Nation, _right?_

“You from there?” asked Shan.

The old man was killing him with his obsessive glare. Zuko couldn’t say he was from the colony. Looking like fire nation and being from the Fire Nation would be way too much of _the Fire Nation_ …

“No – no. I’m not. I just ca…“ ‘ _Can’t’_ wasn’t the right word, Zuko swallowed it, “don’t want to be close.”

Being back in the Fire Nation was all he dreamed of through the last three years. Zuko swallowed the lump in his throat.

Shan smiled at him compassionately. “We have this in common. The Fire Nation’s front got too close to our city to feel safe there. I’ve got family in Ba Sing Se! We’re going there!”

Zuko nodded politely hoping the questioning would end. But the conversation around him didn’t continue and when he looked up their gazes were still focused on him.

“What had happened before you fell?” asked Moosha.

Zuko’s eyes snapped to probably-earthbender in _too obvious_ panic. _Shit, Agni damn it_ … It was obvious he had been beaten… How to explain that?

“I – “ _half-truths… he was good with half-truths_ , “I picked up a fight I couldn’t win,” he mumbled avoiding their gazes.

Zuko didn’t hear any reaction to that, his heart was pumping harder and harder in his aching ribcage… Did they think he was a thug? Would they turn him to some Earth Kingdom officers? Would…

“The fire part in half-breeds always shows! Just like I said!” snarled the old guy.

Zuko expected a blow and flinched but it didn’t come. He looked at the old man, but he didn’t move.

_What the… Half-breed?_

It was probably the worst time to brag about it, but his blood was as pure as it could get – at least by the Fire Nation’s standards… Not that it ever mattered in the first place… Zuko felt insulted but on the other hand…

It was a perfect cover story for someone who’d accuse him of looking too much like the fire nation. _Was that even a thing?_ He had never thought of that before. Would it be that hard to blend in? Yes, his scar stood out pretty much, and his eyes were gold but the rest? He had never thought of differences…

“Ugh!” growled Heren. “Don’t listen to him! Only the old prick is a racist we don’t care.” Heren threw a small pebble at the old man and he barely avoided it. Zuko flincher stronger than he would like to admit but it looked like no one noticed. “I already told you where you can put your damn bullshit, Father!”

The old guy spitted in Zuko’s direction. “We will regret it,” he muttered and with some troubles stood up. Zuko tensed, thinking the old man would jump at him but he left the cave muttering insults under his breath.

_If only he knew how ‘Fire Nation’ Zuko was…_

“Sorry about that,” said Heren. The woman rubbed her face before looking at him. “His skull is just too damn thick to knock some sense into him! UGH!“ she growled. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t do anything other than spitting insults. And again, sorry you had to hear that,” she smiled apologetically.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

Zuko shrugged and got back to finishing his stew. It looked like _this_ ended the questioning. He felt weird… He wasn’t half-breed so he shouldn’t be upset by that but… it felt _wrong_.

Did actual half-breeds have to face… _this_ on their daily basics? How did it look in the Fire Nation? Did it has a similar attitude to half-blood people?

Zuko has never thought of that… But if the person was loyal to the Fire Lord and to its nation it shouldn’t be an issue… The appearance wasn’t more important than honor and loyalty… right? Nobody couldn’t change the way they were born. Zuko should’ve been aware of this problem if it in fact existed outside of the capital. _The prince should have known that…_

 _Too late_. He had to become a traitor to even think about it… Now, he couldn’t even know if his concerns were real. Zuko felt ashamed of himself… _somehow more than before_. He knew he has been failing Father daily, but he hadn’t been aware that _he has been failing his people as well…_

“Mother or father?” asked Shan taking Zuko’s empty bowl.

“ _What?_ ”

Shan bit his lip. “The fire side of you… Mother or father?” he clarified hesitantly.

“Father,” Zuko answered without a second thought.

 _He would never question the Fire Lord’s ethnicity_. And mother wasn’t longer around to care…

“Um, you didn’t take it after him, right?” Shan asked looking at Zuko cautiously. Zuko felt his cheeks flushed and he looked down. No, _he has never been like Father_ , which was the reason he was here… “ _Oh!_ ” Shan suddenly covered his mouth with his hand, bringing Zuko back to reality. “Sorry, um that was stupid… Pretty obvious you’re not a firebender… An earthbender then?”

“I’m not,” Zuko answered. Thanks to Shan’s false assumption he didn’t even have to lie.

“Cool. Me neither.” Shan smiled but Zuko could sense the relief in his words.

Heren and Moosha were clearly listening but didn’t comment and continue cleaning and packing the dishes.

The question was _… what would happen next?_

And it terrified Zuko. At least the questioning ended, and those people showed him hospitality, and he wouldn’t starve for at least a day longer. But it didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t got _a purpose_ anymore.

_How to live without it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have a cliffhanger in my sleeve and it just feels so weird XD The chapter was getting longer and longer and I hadn't got ANY cliffhanger...
> 
> Well, I'm making kinda world building with all the "racist-thing" in the EK. In the show, FN and EK didn't look so different from each other except for gold eyes. In my version people closer to the borders/war-fronts are more alert to that but not all of them. Only a few are like Laohun. Most just didn't care. I will try to work with that in the future but it was just a brief picture of the concept :))
> 
> OK SOOOO as always I LOVE comments really. I want to know EVERY YOUR THOUGHT. I don't mind reading essays :)))) A bunch of new OC's make me anxious so I would like to hear your opinion on them. I don't want it to get boring and even when I'm using their - in this case Heren's - POV I'm trying to circulate around our main (poor) star.
> 
> PS. I've got a new (faster, but it doesn't mean fast-fast) concept on how to bring one colonel back to the scene🤫 No promises, and if anyone misses him - good news --> he will show (probably) faster than Iroh, but we are still talking about +40k words XDDD. Unless I change my mind


	3. Chapter 3

All the people around Zuko decided to ignore him, at least for a while, and he couldn’t be more grateful. He carefully watched Heren and Shan packing their stuff and checking supplies, Moosha was sewing something, and the old guy didn’t come back yet. They were preparing for the road… _to Ba Sing Se_. This definitely wasn’t the direction for Zuko. No way. Uncle hadn’t managed to get inside and Lu Ten… _No_.

Zuko wondered what was Uncle doing? He _must’ve_ escaped the North and he _must’ve_ been safe. _Was he thinking Zuko was dead?_ Maybe not yet, but when Zuko wouldn’t show up at their meeting point… _Would Uncle even want to meet him any longer?_ Zhao could’ve told him that Zuko was officially a traitor, or Uncle could’ve seen the posters, or even Father could’ve informed him… Uncle was a bit eccentric but even his _proverb-philosophy_ wouldn’t tolerate the disgrace that Zuko had committed.

But… the conversation that Zuko had eavesdropped back in the air still confused him. The Avatar’s group said that Uncle had _helped them_..?

Wasn’t it exactly the same crime that Zuko had committed?

 _No_ , Uncle had acted against Zhao, not alongside the Avatar, which wasn’t treason but an act of simple common sense – Zhao had been mad since the day Zuko had met him. Zuko’s crime had been selfish, Uncle’s had been for the greater good; Zuko had been caught, Uncle hadn’t.

It was better this way – everyone probably thought Zuko was dead. Uncle wouldn’t have any problems because of the connections with the traitorous prince. The last time anyone other than Uncle had seen him, had been before his ship had been blown up. _Was the poster only precaution if by any chance he’d survived the attempt on his life?_ That would explain why the bounty was so big…

 _Or maybe they suspected that he had joined the Avatar back then?_ It would make sense only Uncle knew he hunted the Avatar to the North Pole, and the Water Tribe wouldn’t inform anyone in the Fire Nation that they had had him in custody. The same with the Earth Kingdom… they wouldn’t want to admit that he’d escaped – which wasn’t actually true…

Zuko had been… rescued? By the Avatar? The last thing he remembered was laying on the ground with the colonel… Why hadn’t he stopped the Avatar? Wasn’t his job to keep Zuko locked?

Zuko’s head hurt due to the excess of unknowns.

Moosha cleared his throat, he was staring at Zuko like he expected something. Zuko looked at the huge man and his heart involuntary speeded, loud thuds radiating through his sore ribcage. The man had to notice his rising panic and softened his, previously demanding, expression. “I said… I was a medic in the army once. I can check your injuries.”

“I’m fine. Thank you,” Zuko answered shortly. He was already in debt to his enemies.

Heren snorted. “You’re crazy, not fine, kiddo.” Zuko glared at the woman. They were already pitying him, no need to add _patronizing_. Heren crossed her arms looking at Zuko with raised eyebrows. “Try that bullshit of yours with someone who didn’t drag your almost-corpse.” Zuko looked down ashamed. He couldn’t argue with that. “We’re leaving soon. You have to be in shape for the road. Don’t worry, Moosha only looks scary. He’s like a big fluffy bear,” she laughed, messing with her husband’s short hair. ‘ _The bear’_ didn’t look bothered by it, he only rolled his eyes.

Suddenly Zuko realized something. “ _We?_ I – I’m grateful for your, um, generosity but – “

“ _Relax_ , Lee,” Heren interrupted him. “We aren’t kidnapping or forcing you to do anything. But I doubt you planned rolling down here and I doubt you know the way out. Come with us, at least until we leave the canyon.”

Heren was right. Zuko bowed his head in acceptance and gratitude. It felt so _wrong_ to be wholly on the mercy of his _enemies_.

Heren turned to Moosha. “Patch him up, my love. I’m going to knock some sense into my lovely father. Shan!” Herren called the boy who jumped startled by her yell. “Go get some water for the road!” Shan muttered something under his breath, took water containers, and lingered after Heren.

Zuko was left alone with Moosha. He tried not to show how tense he became at the perspective of the man so close to him – _touching him_. But at the same time, Zuko was awfully aware that he needed help – _disgraceful display of weakness_ – to be able to leave this canyon.

Moosha grabbed a small rag from his bag and glanced around looking for something. His eyes focused on the supplies on the opposite side of the cave and he _earthbended_ them closer. Zuko flinched at the sudden display of bending, Moosha noticed but didn’t comment. The man took a water skin and headed to Zuko.

It took a lot to tame an urge to flee – not that he was actually capable of it. “You were a medic when you are a bender?” Zuko asked but it sounded too much like an accusation.

Moosha didn’t react to this sudden offensiveness and crouched next to Zuko. “It is better not to let the way you were born to determine who you are,” he said thoughtfully. “Don’t you agree?”

Considering that Zuko was _a half-breed brat_ for these people, this statement was probably a proverb, which meant he didn’t understand it. But as it usually was with proverbs Zuko couldn’t be sure, so he shrugged.

Moosha gave Zuko’s face a critical look. “There’s dirt in your head wound. I have to clean it before it gets infected.”

It was logical but it didn’t change the fact that Zuko wasn’t exactly fine with people touching his face. Zuko nodded sharply, preparing himself for the contact and praying his stupid traitorous mind wouldn’t freak out. He hasn’t thought about it but, well, yeah, after rolling from the cliff he had dirt _everywhere_.

Moosha wet the rag and began cleaning dirt from his head, on the scarred side. He couldn’t see his movements with his bad side, and it didn’t help. Zuko was flinching every time the rag touched him in a new _spot. He wasn’t tense; he hadn’t stopped breathing; he wasn’t on the edge of panic…_ Moosha didn’t comment on any of his flinches or winces, Zuko was grateful that the man didn’t pity him.

“How does your sight in that eye work?” asked Moosha.

Zuko would’ve glared at the man if he hadn’t held his head in place with one hand and constantly poked his wound with the other. He couldn’t judge his intentions without seeing his expression. “Um, it’s, um… limited on the sides and, um, sometimes a bit blurry,” he answered, _all truth_ , he preferred not to lie to the man who could snap his neck with one motion.

His confession didn’t get any reaction, the man was still clearing his wound. “Does the scar bother you otherwise?”

Zuko never talked openly about his scar, people either knew the story behind it or were smart enough not to ask. But if someone did ask, it was always about its origin (which Zuko usually ignored or answered with flames) not how it felt. Even Uncle since the scar healed hasn’t brought this up…

Zuko had been taken off guard with that question and maybe that’s why he actually answered. “It’s mostly numb,” he said, surprised that it came through his throat so easily.

Moosha nodded and put the rag aside. “The cut doesn’t look infected. How much your head hurts?”

“Umm, a bit. Not much,” Zuko lied, trying to sound confident.

“Do you remember how this happened?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you nauseous?”

“Umm,” Zuko was prepared to lie again… But, well, he hasn’t noticed that since the morning he didn’t want to throw up. “No.”

Moosha once again critically looked at his head. “Bump and bruising looks nasty, but it looks that you avoided a serious concussion. It will take a couple of days to come back to normal. Also, it’s good you sleep through the night.”

Well… indeed he had slept through the night and hadn’t woken even once. It was the best night of sleep he had in weeks.

Moosha eyed Zuko from head to toes and fixed his gaze on his leg. “Broken?”

“I don’t think so,” said Zuko. “I guess it’s just bruising on my thigh.”

“Better let me judge it,” said Moosha with his medical tone. Zuko has always been a fan of walking, so he nodded. “I will roll your pants,” informed Moosha.

Zuko preventively clenched his teeth as Moosha started rolling the fabric at his ankle. His calf was covered with some bruises and scratches from the smaller rocks of the fall. The bender was surprisingly gentle but when he rolled the fabric past Zuko’s knee even the slightest movement or touch resulted in pain. Zuko squeezed his eyes when the material was removed from this thigh and finally rolled up close to his hip. Zuko exhaled slowly and opened his eyes to see Moosha’s alarming stare, then he looked at his leg…

His naturally pale skin was covered in a pale purple shade on most part of his thigh. In the middle, the bruise darkened and Zuko had a feeling that it was only the beginning of its expansion. The whole area was swollen, and it didn’t look well. Zuko swallowed a lump in his throat and with rising panic looked at Moosha.

 _“Just bruising, huh?”_ the man abandoned his medical tone which did not ease Zuko’s fright. “How old is it?”

“… A day?” Zuko couldn’t believe he’d been walking using this leg. This probably had made everything worse. 

“I will get bandages,” said Moosha, turning to the supplies bag.

Zuko couldn’t take his eyes off his leg. He didn’t remember any snap of the bone but seeing his limb he wasn’t longer so sure… _He was panicking. This leg looked bad…_ It was impossible to bend without a steady stance, it was impossible to wield a sword without good footing, it was impossible to live as a fugitive of _every damned nation_ without being able to run. Zuko felt his breathing speeded and heart throbbed louder. He couldn’t add to his shameful account being a _fucking cripple_.

“How?”

Moosha’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts but he was too stunned to remember he wasn’t supposed to go into details. “I – I was hit by a rock.”

“A rock?” repeated Moosha and processed it for a second. “That fight you picked up was with an earthbender?”

“One was a bender,” he rasped, his throat suddenly became too dry to speak.

Finally, Zuko looked up at Moosha and – _thanks Agni_ – he wore his medical expression again. “I suppose you walked for a while before you reached the canyon?” he asked. Zuko nodded, his throat too dry to speak. “It’s not broken.” This simple sentence lifted some weight from Zuko’s chest. “But your muscles are torn, at least in some part. I have to bandage it. _Tight_. It won’t be pleasant.”

Zuko nodded immediately, ready to do anything to be ever able to walk. “Okay.” The short dark scenario of being a permanent cripple too fresh in his mind to even argue with Moosha. Zuko has never been _such an_ obedient patient.

“Ok, then.”

Moosha gently put his hand under Zuko’s knee, trying to bend it a bit. After the slightest movement, an involuntary hiss escaped Zuko’s mouth when pain radiated from his whole leg. Moosha immediately stopped and looked at Zuko’s pained wince.

“Sorry,” gasped Zuko. “Sorry I – I won’t do that again. I wasn’t ready.”

“I guess it will be easier if you stand up,” proposed Moosha.

The bender reached his hand to help Zuko to his feet. He took last calm, almost painless breath and grabbed Moosha’s arm. Accepting help was a new concept for Zuko but he was pretty desperate at the moment.

When he was upright everything became fuzzy for a second but after a couple of blinks, the sharpness came back. His ribs shifted a bit with the motion, and he clenched his side to ease the pain. Zuko forgot how unpleasant standing could be, with every passing second his leg hurt more and more. He swallowed a building groan and refused to show more weakness.

Moosha crouched in front of him with a roll of bandage in his hand. Zuko leaned over the wall for better stabilization. He inhaled sharply when the first layer of bandage was tightened. The pain from standing up and the pain from pressure on his leg blended together and he had to remind himself to breathe.

“On the road when we will make stops you have to try to bend your knee. The muscle must be stretched bit by bit.” Moosha began to apply the third layer and slowly the pain started to adjust to a bearable, well-known amount. Zuko wasn’t a fan of Moosha’s advice but he nodded. “And about the road –” the bender was about to say something when Heren and the old guy came back to the camp.

“Hello, hello,” cheered Heren. “Good to see you upright!”

Moosha secured the end of the bandage and let the fabric of his pants fall. Zuko sheepishly nodded to Heren. _What was he supposed to answer to that?_ The old guy, Laohun, was ignoring everyone, entirely focused on cleaning his shoe.

“Moosha, I thought you were way faster,” commented Heren with fake disappointment in her tone. “You still haven’t fixed his shoulder.”

Moosha blinked at Zuko and then at his wife. _“Shoulder?”_ Zuko felt like he was caught, even if he hadn't done anything. Heren looked at him with arms on her hips and he had no idea what that meant. “I was just about to say,” continued Moosha, “that Lee shouldn’t put any weight on this leg yet.”

“Three of us can switch in helping him, no problem,” she declared and Moosha nodded smiling lightly at her.

Zuko saw _a problem_. He was already at the mercy of his enemies, it was _humiliating, and wrong, and shameful, and weak…_ Zuko didn’t want to be a burden for them – even if they were, as a matter of fact, _his enemies_. 

“I can walk by myself.”

They both looked at him with raised eyebrows. Heren eyed him from head to toes. “Lee, sweetheart, you can’t.”

“It’s not about can or can’t – you shouldn’t if you don’t want to tear your muscle completely,” said Moosha, looking at Zuko annoyed.

“I won’t,” argued Zuko, even if he knew the man was right. “I will take it easy, but I will walk by myself.”

“ _Kid…_ ” Moosha still wore his medical expression but rising irritation was showing in his voice. “If you tear it completely there’s nothing I can do to prevent you from having a permanent limp.”

“I won’t tear it,” insisted Zuko, feeling like a stubborn child. He knew the man was right, but he also knew he won’t let them carry him.

Moosha rubbed his face and was about to say something when Heren put a hand on his shoulder looking right at Zuko. “Not used to help, are you?” she asked sadly.

Zuko scowled at her because only weak people were used to help, and he wasn’t _weak_. Or at least he tried not to be…

“Ugh, okay then, Mr. Independent, let’s make a compromise...” sighed Heren. “Love, make Mr. Independent a crutch.”

 _That wasn’t actually a bad idea…_ Zuko could swallow his pride and deal with having a crouch.

“I’m an earthbender, not a sculptor.”

“A very talented earthbender,” Heren said sweetly. ” C’mon, honey, you got this.”

Moosha rolled his eyes and looked around. “I have to find something less sandy… Heren, get him _tea_ before we set off,” he said, heading off to the canyon.

Zuko frowned… _tea_? Heren didn’t look surprised at this request and started bustling around and rummaging in their supplies. Zuko lightly patted his wrapped leg and it didn’t feel like stabbing, which was an improvement. He got his panic under control but Moosha’s words about a permanent limp still echoed in his head. He may act like a stubborn patient – he had some experience in it – but he wouldn’t ignore man’s words.

“Drink it down.”

Heren handed him a cup with a cold liquid – definitely not tea. “It’s not tea…” he said alarmed and didn’t take the cup.

“ _’Tea’_ is Moosha’s way to say painkillers, ya’know, from his time as a medic,” she explained.

“I don’t need painkillers.” Zuko couldn’t let it dull his senses in enemy territory.

Zuko didn’t like the smile that appeared on a woman's face. She slowly raised her free hand in a threatening manner and Zuko stopped breathing. He observed with wide eyes her hand getting closer to his torso. He prepared himself for the punch, the woman had to have enough of his bullshit… he shouldn’t be surprised. Zuko couldn’t escape, he was already back against the wall. At least he wouldn’t have to bother himself with the paradox of _nice enemies_ …

The punch didn’t come. Heren lightly poked his bad shoulder and he gasped surprised and totally puzzled. “Huh? What was that my dear? For me it sounded like a request for painkillers,” she smiled sweetly and put the cup directly in his hand, squeezing his fingers with her own around it. Zuko was too stunned to make any other reaction than dumb stare. “Repeat that again, please… Oh, you need a sling for that arm? I’m on it. What a lovely and cooperative patient you are, Lee.”

Zuko gaped at her, not understanding a damn thing.

When Zuko was wondering why he hadn't been punched, Shan came back. His arms were full of water containers and with a loud thud, he put it on the ground.

“Ugh, my back is too old for this,” he complained, doing some strange stretching exercises. He looked at the cup in Zuko’s hand. “What are we drinking? Please tell me it is this crazy stuff I drank the first night at your house! I felt like a newborn, completely zero back pain!”

“Shan, you idiot,” sighed Heren, but she sounded amused, “I hadn’t given you anything, you mixed wrong herbs and created hallucinogens.”

“It’s not my fault you have hallucinogens next to tea leaves,” deadpanned Shan. “Anyway, it was quite an interesting experience.”

This little conversation successfully dissuaded Zuko from drinking suspicious liquid even more than before.

“Ugh!” growled Heren, gesturing at Zuko. “See what you have done! Now he’s thinking I want to drug him!”

“Don’t you?” teased her Shan.

Heren rubbed her face and growled louder. “Those are fucking painkillers! If you’re missing my _‘crazy stuff’_ then try it.”

“A bit hazardous… _I like it_ ,” said Shan. He walked to Zuko and took the cup from his hand. The boy sniffed it dramatically and took a tiny sip… and spitted it on the ground. “Yuck! This is definitely not my crazy stuff. It’s all yours, Lee.” Shan handed it back to Zuko. “Only painkillers are this bitter, poison has a sweeter flavor.”

“ _Idiot…_ I live with an idiot…” muttered Heren. “Ok, so we established I don’t want to poison Lee. Great. Now, please, don’t be dumb, like this one,” she pointed at Shan,” and drink it. It helps heal faster.”

Zuko slowly took a cup to his lips and took the first sip. If he hadn’t done it by himself, he had a feeling that Heren would’ve forced it down his throat… Shan was right, the liquid was bitter but Zuko had drunk _various Uncle’s teas,_ so he was used to strange tastes… He emptied the cup and awkwardly handed it to Heren.

“You didn’t even cough… I’m impressed, man,” said Shan.

“He didn’t, because he’s trying to hide that his ribs are broken,” pointed Heren, looking right into Zuko’s eyes, he turned his gaze. “Don’t even pretend otherwise. If I noticed, I’m sure Moosha did as well. Listen, Lee,” said Heren in sudden gentleness, “if you are doing this because you feel like you will owe us something you are wrong.”

But he owed them… basically, _his life_ and they didn’t demand anything in return. The world didn’t work like that. The ploy was there somewhere but he didn’t know where. By this point, Zuko could only understand the old man’s behavior – sending him hateful glares from across the cave. It was, at least, familiar.

“Yeah, chill out man, you know what they say… um, if you don’t pick up a stranger on your journey… then you will, um, die a horrible death … _yeah_ , that’s what they say,” said Shan, scratching his neck.

Zuko was almost sure nobody ever said that – at least Uncle has never used this proverb.

“We don’t have time, can we go now?” asked the old man, clearly irritated.

“As soon as – “ began Heren when Moosha appeared at the cave’s mouth with something crouch-shaped in his hand. “I knew you would make an amazing sculptor!” Heren proudly patted her husband’s arm.

“What’s that?” asked Shan. “Lemme guess… um… a giant flamingo leg!”

“That’s a crutch for Lee,” deadpanned Moosha.

“… _A crutch for Lee._ It was my second guess.”

The thing in Moosha’s hand was nothing like a flamingo leg… It looked like a regular crutch but made of stone. Zuko had no idea how Shan had come up with his ridiculous guess.

Moosha handed it to Zuko and it wasn’t as heavy as it looked. “See if it has the right length,” instructed Moosha.

Zuko took it under his good shoulder and made a wary step with its help. _It wasn’t bad_. The length fit his height and the new motion wasn’t too harsh for his rib cage. “It’s fine,” said Zuko. “Thank you, Sir,” he added quieter. It didn’t feel right to _thank_ his enemy _per sir,_ but it would’ve felt worse not to thank the man...

“You’re welcome,” smiled Moosha.

“It’s your lucky day, Lee! Here you go fancy sling to your collection.”

Heren put a knotted cloth around his neck and didn’t comment on Zuko's involuntary flinch. He put his arm in a makeshift sling and, _well_ , it brought some relief to his aching joint.

“What’s with your shoulder?” asked Moosha.

“It was dislocated,” he answered, not seeing a point in lying. Everyone except the old man had another expression of concern on their faces. “But now it’s back in the right place. Just a bit sore.”

Shan leaned to Heren and whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s joking, right?”

“He’s not,” Heren whispered back, looking straight-faced at Zuko.

Moosha looked resigned. “Can I judge it?”

Zuko nodded, he didn’t want to irritate the man further – _better not to test his patience_. Moosha cupped Zuko’s shoulder in his hand and put delicate pressure in some spots. “Well, I’m surprised to say that but – yeah, it’s in the right place. Ligaments are strained a bit, though.”

The old man stood at the entrance of the cave with his stuff in his hand. “The field hospital is closing,” he growled. “Time to go.”

Heren rolled her eyes, turned to him, and took her bag from the ground. “As you wish, father.”

They took all their stuff and set off. Zuko limped after them, not sure where he would go after leaving the canyon. Time for worrying about it would be later, for now, he had to focus on not stumbling and falling face-first on the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I write 4k words of care? 
> 
> Yes, I did. Zuko really deserves it, also, I'm a bit sucker for more detailed care, and I got angry when writers skip it. So I made my a long one :D Does anyone feel the same?
> 
> As always COMMENTS are the best and I love your feelings or predictions - gimme some inspiration in those hard times.


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko would have never suspected himself of admitting that, but in some wicked way he missed the water peasant – his conversation attempts had put him on edge but hadn’t necessarily required Zuko’s answers.

Shan was undeniably talking most of the time but he, in fact, waited for Zuko’s response after he finally asked the question preceded by his multi-threaded jabber that Zuko’s aching head barely followed. It required a lot of focus to adjust his limping to the group’s pace without stumbling, pretending to not be out of breath, and not in pain. Maintaining a conversation was the last thing Zuko wanted to do but he had no choice. For some reason, too enthusiastic non-bender decided to stick to Zuko’s right from the beginning of the road, which was about two hours ago…

 _Thanks Agni the path was flat and_ wide – otherwise he could struggle to keep up with the rest even with the crutch.

After all, Zuko must’ve admitted that Shan’s questions and suspicious curiosity about Zuko’s made-up persona had created quite a solid cover story. Less than half of it was Zuko’s poor lying attempts and half-truths and the rest was Shan’s talent to interrupt. The boy had been trying to guess what Zuko had been about to say every time he’d stopped talking either because of his shitty lying skills or the lack of air. After his elaborate guesses, Zuko had often nodded, admitting the proposed version of events. Shan had seemed to be really proud of himself and Zuko had been glad he hadn’t had to come up with this lies by himself.

After two hours they established that Zuko – _or rather Lee_ – was from Sin Yan – a small village near to the colony Zuko had woken up close to. According to Shan the village had been in the Earth Kingdom’s jurisdiction but was often on the path of newly arriving fire nation troops. _Lee_ was a sixteen-year-old orphan – Shan hadn’t asked directly if _Lee’s_ parents were alive. The non-bender had to assume that it wouldn’t have been too tactful. He’d earnestly suggested that half-breeds had an easier life when they claimed to be orphans. Apparently, the earth kingdom citizens weren’t comfortable with a too-close connection to the Fire Nation. Zuko could understand that – the feeling was mutual. Also, some time ago Lee had been a worker at the harbor with some experience of sailing. Zuko was pretty proud because he had come up with this one – he had experience in sailing and if someone would confront him about it, he would know what to say, besides an orphan, _like Lee_ , should have some work-history. Zuko didn’t want anyone to suspect him of living as a criminal.

So, well, yes… his Lee persona had a backstory now. Zuko had mixed feelings about this but this was his only option right now – _right here_. He wasn’t giving up on his destiny, _on himself_ … it was just necessary adjustment. _Temporary necessary adjustment_.

Zuko hated to admit it but he would probably be lost in this canyon after the first turn. Everything looked the same and he had no idea how Heren, only using some map, managed to navigate them. She and her father were leading the group; Shan and he were a couple of steeps behind them; Moosha with the heaviest of their supplies walked last. Zuko’s instincts screamed at him for being trapped but he tried to ignore the paranoic feeling.

Heren’s painkillers were working. Now, the soreness in his entire body was only a dull background feeling. Sharp stabs of pain from time to time pierced his ribcage, however only in two spots, which meant only two ribs were fractured others were just bruised. The sling and the crutch bring some relief as well, nonetheless, the leg still felt rather terrible. Also, using the crutch was irritating his damaged back, he had almost forgotten about it in face of all the rest. Zuko didn’t complain. The sun was shining above their heads making his inner flame wriggle in his chest – it was a nice feeling. A few more days and some secret meditation and Zuko would manage to calm it for good.

Shan gulped over half of the water from the waterskin with one sip. It was quite understandable since he has been speaking for a few hours. After he was finished, he sighed loudly and looked at Zuko.

“You want some?” Shan asked, waving the waterskin.

Zuko’s mouth felt dry and still a bit bitter from the painkillers’ taste. He was about to say yes… then he scolded himself for it… but before he could say anything Shan put the waterskin in his hand, already unplugged so he wouldn’t have to let go of the crutch to open it.

Zuko shocked by the gesture looked at Shan who was widely smiling at him. “Umm, yes… thanks,” muttered Zuko.

“Sure, man… Drink as much as you want – less for me to carry!” he whispered with amusement.

Zuko carefully lifted his arm from the sling and took a few sips of water, paying attention not to drink all of it. After he was finished, he handed the container to Shan.

The non-bender stuck to his right but was quiet for a while – Zuko had a bad feeling about this. From the corner of his eye, he could see Shan’s tense expression, like he was thinking about something really hard, as he finally turned to Zuko.

“So… um, Lee,” he started without the easiness of the previous conversation. “Mind if I ask… um, you know, I’m just a curious guy… If, um… Your father, this fire nation guy, ya know, um, was he a firebender by any chance?”

Zuko’s heart-rate picked up. The safe answer would be ‘no’ but the lie about the Fire Lord not being a firebender wouldn’t go past his throat. He felt a terrible dread even thinking about the possibility.

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly, praying that Shan leave the topic.

Shan jumped surprised. “Oh, wow! Really?” Zuko nodded, not looking at the boy. “Woah that’s creepy.” Zuko cringed hearing this. “You ever saw him? Not many saw firebenders and lived these days.”

“Of course, I saw my father!” exclaimed Zuko, glaring at Shan.

After a second Zuko realized that this little outburst was reckless. It would be safer to claim he hadn’t but – but of course, Zuko saw his father… Maybe it was a long time ago but… it – it mattered.

Before he could clarify it as a Lee – _not Zuko_ – Shan put his hands up in pacifying gesture.

“Chill, dude… I didn’t mean to be mean or anything,” said Shan calmly. “It’s common not to know parents. War is a shitty time for parenting after all.” Zuko could agree with that. “So, you are saying your fire papa was actually around… That’s interesting. Is he a deserter?”

Zuko’s breath catch in his throat – _the Fire Lord accused of being a deserter_. Cold sweat began to run down his spine before he reminded himself that they were talking about _Lee’s_ imaginary father, not Fire Lord Ozai.

Shan must’ve noticed his dread. “ _Oh shit…_ I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if he’s alive. Ugh, sorry I just assumed you know… Um, mind clarifying that? I’d like to know if I have to apologize further for being a dick by talking in the present tense…”

_Zuko, you idiot, gather yourself and save the fake story… somehow…_

Shan was looking at him with a cautious sheepish gaze which wasn’t helping at all.

“Umm…” It would be easier to say _Lee’s_ father was dead but Zuko couldn’t do it… He wouldn’t dare to say out loud something so horrific, _so traitorous_ … Even if he was trying to lie, truth and undying loyalty to Father imprinted in his mind… He’d committed something traitorous, but he wouldn’t act like this anymore… “I – I… well, yes. I mean he’s alive… but I’m not sure,” Zuko managed to put a little false which wasn’t easy, so he came back to well-known half-truths, “I haven’t seen him, um, for… _a while_.”

Shan eyed him cautiously, his eyes focused a little too long on the edge of Zuko’s scar to miss it. He clenched his fist on the crutch and turned his face away. The fact that he’d seen Father for the last time _that day_ didn’t help. He had to take a couple of slow inhales to stay composed.

“Oh, that’s, um… _cool_. But sorry anyway, for being so blunt and all,” said Shan. “So, back to my question, is he – “

“ _Shan_ , my dear,” Heren called the boy turning to him suddenly. The woman was walking backward, looking at Shan and Zuko with a strange expression on her face. “I need a hand with planning our way, join me for a second.”

“Can’t it wait? I – “

“ _Shan_. Come here unless you want to walk through the entire Earth Kingdom,” she said firmly.

Shan groaned, rolled his eyes, and finally ran a few steps to join Heren. The old guy seemed to not be interested in planning and he let the other two do it by themselves.

Zuko exhaled with enormous relief. Silence. Spirit-blessed silence. No more stress of lying at a whim. But maybe if he’d kept doing it, he would finally stop being so pathetic in it…

_Or exposed himself completely…_

* * *

“How dumb are you, asshole?” Heren asked when they walked away enough so Lee couldn’t hear them.

Shan looked at her as if she had slapped him in the face. “What?!”

“Exactly what you heard,” she growled. Shan looked at her with mouth open agape, totally puzzled expression. She rolled her eyes and waved this stupid map just to keep up the appearances in case Lee was watching them. “How dumb are you to ask him such things?” she clarified.

Heren glared at him for a few seconds as he was processing what she said. After he finally did it, he looked at the map with a look of betrayal in his eyes. She raised her finger as a warning.

“Ugh,” he sighed. “You're accusing me of asking him questions?! Firstly – I’m nice and I wanted to keep him company and that requires actual _talking_.” Shan waved his hands emphasizing his point. “Secondly – why are you even eavesdropping on us?! Thirdly – I’m a curious guy, okay?” He shrugged and Heren rolled her eyes. _Too curious if you asked her…_ “I wanted to loosen him up a bit and I didn’t force him to answer! He could’ve just told me to shut up and I would… well, not exactly maybe, um… I would at least change the topic! So, stop insulting me for being nice to the guy!”

Heren took a deep inhale. Shan has always been like that, good-hearted and extremely talkative but totally oblivious to some factors. It was cute in some way and most of the time they were laughing at him but in cases like this one, Heren wanted to strangle him. She hoped he would grow out of it… if not in his twenties maybe in his thirties…

“Tell me, is Lee acting normally? Are the circumstances of meeting him normal in any way?" she asked. It’s better to lead him to the right conclusion than just yell at him. She was a patient woman. _Most of the time_.

Shan scratched his head. “Well, um two times ‘no’ I guess… He seems shy… um, and he was kind of nervous?” Shen looked at Heren as if he looked for the right answer. She kept her expression blank. “How am I supposed to tell you if you just interrupted my attempts to get to know him?!”

“Shan, my dear, your so-called ‘attempts’ were fucking invasive,” she said, without checking if he understood her, she continued. “Was the way he preferred to starve himself rather than to be in our debt normal?”

“… No, I guess,” he answered, Heren’s point slowly understandable for him.

“Exactly. The boy had a hard time lately, maybe even a hard life. He probably thinks that he must answer everything you ask him as if he owes it to you – “

“ _Oh_.”

“ _Oh, indeed_ ,” admitted Heren. “ Besides… Really?! You thought that asking him about his past was the best way to _‘loosen him up a bit’_?”

“I – um… when I was his age, I liked to talk about myself…” he said in his defense, but it was clear that now he understood his mistake.

“You still love it,” she pointed, Shan didn’t argue. “But Shan… you don’t ask a beaten, alone, and scared teen that you meet last night about his past, for spirits’ sake! The potential for a traumatic story literally couldn’t be higher in any case.”

Shan’s cheeks turned a bit red. “Should I apologize?”

“I don’t think so… Just let him be.” Shan nodded, clearly upset. “If you wanna keep him company better stick to neutral topics or just brag about yourself,” she teased him. “But try to attack him again after a break, ok?”

“Hey! This is _mean_. You are putting this like my company is a punishment.”

 _“Isn't it?”_ she raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck you, Heren, you love hurting my feelings, don’t you?”

“Better tell me what you get out of this little interrogation of yours.”

Shan pointed a finger at her. “Ha! So, you are curious, you hypocrite!”

Of course, she was curious. If Shan already violated Lee’s privacy… Someone more perceptional should know it as well. “Shut up and spill it.”

“Well – “

* * *

Zuko has stopped being so fond of silence a while ago when dark thoughts started to occupy his mind. He had no plan, no knowledge of what had happened to Uncle, no idea how to survive long enough to came up with anything to make things right…

If that was even possible. _He just wanted to go home…_

“Lee.”

Zuko jumped a little hearing Moosha’s voice on his right. Until now, the bender had been walking a couple of steps behind him.

“Yes?” Zuko asked stressed.

“Tell me how is your breathing after painkillers,” said Moosha in his medical tone. Zuko liked the medical tone, it was way better than the overenthusiastic attitude of Shan. “Please don’t decrease it because of whatever reasons you may have _. Be honest_ ,” he added firmly.

Zuko peeked at the man cautiously looking for signs of anger but find none. He swallowed the anxiety and obeyed the order of being honest, afraid of the consequences of lying. “It’s better than before,” he admitted. “Um… it’s definitely not as shallow as it was, um… but not normal either… I’m – I, um, I mean… it’s way better and – and enough… thank you,” he ended mumbling.

Moosha nodded. “Now, please focus it’s really important. When we stop it would be good if you let me check if any of your ribs are fractured or is it just bruising. In both cases, I can’t do much in those circumstances but I may give you some advice on how to help it heal right.”

Firstly, Zuko wanted to nod. The man had already treated his wound at his scarred side, so letting him check on his chest shouldn’t be a big deal. It still would increase his debt to these people, but he wasn’t able to pay it back anyway… This was what the man wanted and proposed himself, so it was better to agree to avoid annoying him again.

But then he remembered Master Pakku’s smirks.

There was no way he would let them see his back. _No way_. It would generate questions he wouldn’t be able to answer. Zuko shivered when the memory of the icy room came back to his mind. The horrible shots of pain every time the cruel water hit his skin; the way his throat had hurt from screaming; the pathetic begging he’d tried when he couldn’t stand the frustration and pain any longer…

 _And those fucking smirks_.

Zuko shook his head, coming back to the present moment. Moosha was staring at him with a frown.

“Um, there’s no need, Sir,” he said, trying not to sound like a stubborn toddler like he had had before. “I can tell only two are broken. They, um, they feel different.”

Moosha raised his brow surprised but didn’t insist on checking by himself to Zuko’s relief. The medic asked him various questions to identify as many details as he could. Zuko did his best in answering them exhaustively.

* * *

They made a stop an hour before the sunset. Heren decided that they could allow themselves this much rest and they should leave the canyon by tomorrow’s noon if they set off by the sunrise. This time they hadn’t found a cave, they just sat in the middle of the narrow part of the canyon. Zuko didn’t like that but for the whole day, they hadn’t walked past a living soul so it should be safe.

Zuko carefully lowered himself on the ground. _Oh Agni, it felt good_. Shan was trying to light the fire using spark rocks, Zuko had to turn away from the too tempting opportunity of bending. He looked at his bad leg and knew that waiting wouldn’t do him anything good. No one was paying him any attention at the moment so he could slowly try to bend his knee. _It hurt as fuck_. He managed to elevate his knee a bit, but it wasn’t going any further today.

After the struggles with his leg, Zuko looked up to saw Moosha’s approving nod. Zuko couldn’t understand why he suddenly felt something warm in his chest after that. He looked down immediately.

Heren and Shan prepared food for all of them _. It was nice._

The family around was talking about meaningless things and he just listened to them, not drowning in his own thoughts _. It was nice too._

It was way too nice for an evening surrounded by enemies in the middle of the dirt hole. Zuko decided to just enjoy the moment.

Until the topic switched to the war.

Until Shan suddenly exclaimed that he forgot to tell them about a chatter he had heard at the marketplace.

“The Dragon! The one from Ba Sing Se had failed at the North! They said it was _a massacre_ – “

Zuko stopped breathing, his hands suddenly started shaking and he dropped the bowl. It shattered on the ground/

_Uncle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, I was thinking about the angst possibilities of them seeing his back... But I couldn't find an actual way of how it could happen without just forcing it into the plot "for angst". Zuko wouldn't just forget about it and he isn't a nudist or sth, and it would felt wrong and ooc for the bunch to force Zuko to take off if his shirt. No for sure they wouldn't do that. 
> 
> I have got an anxious feeling that events are too slow... or boring so I would be glad to hear your opinion. My anxiety ended in my well-known mini cliffhanger at the end to ease my nerves. 
> 
> ALL COMMENTS WELCOMED! <3
> 
> Also, I've got a small request...  
> As you probably know I'm not a native English speaker and not many things translate directly blah blah... to the point --> I need insults. Funny ones, mean ones, creative ones, the ones characteristic for the EK maybe??? all of them... that someone could call a young, not-looking too healthy, skinny, cripple with a huge burn on his face (no, I'm not talking about Zuko, no no no what make you think that????) I would be SO GRATEFUL. But ya know I'm asking for a friend..........  
> I've got some ideas but I don't want to be repetitive


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see your insult form the comments that you'd proposed feel like I'm winking at you :)))
> 
> (once again thanks to everyone that had helped ❤❤)

„Emmm…” Shan stopped talking when the bowl hit the ground, looking at Zuko with a concerned expression. “Lee, you okay, man?” he asked carefully.

 _“A massacre?”_ asked Zuko.

It was all Zuko managed to say through the clenched throat. He knew this much – Pakku had gladly informed him about the death of his people, _with a fucking smirk stuck to his face_. Hearing Uncle’s title alongside with the word ‘massacre’ shouldn’t almost stop his heart, but it did.

 _Uncle couldn’t be… he couldn’t_.

Zuko knew that this could blow his entire cover, that he could just stay quiet and pull out pieces of information later, that gossips weren’t a trustworthy source… But his entire composure disappeared when Uncle was mentioned out loud. _He couldn’t…_

Shan frowned at Zuko, then looked at the others and continued. “Well, it’s the best way to call it. That fellow, who told me this, said that from the entire fleet of the fire nation’s ships only one came back. _One!_ Out of the entire fleet! The Northerners smacked them to the ground, um… or to the water, I should say,” chuckled Shan. “Oh! And the Avatar was involved! _The Avatar._ It looks like the gossips were true…”

“ _Huh…_ the Avatar indeed returned,” gaped Heren.

Shan ran his fingers through his hair, messing his ponytail completely. “Crazy right! Maybe this shit-war would be finally over!”

Heren and Moosha looked at each other with a deep sadness in their eyes, as if there was an entire unspoken conversation in this one look.

The old guy _smirked_ which send shivers down Zuko’s spine, but his mind was too panicked to recall the triggering memory. “Drowned Ashmakers. A little comical don’t you think? Their vicious flames suffocated by unforgiving water.”

Zuko’s head was buzzing with panic. His inner flame subconsciously flickered in his chest at the mention of _suffocation by unforgiving water,_ but his mind was too occupied by rising fear. Not even one uncle-related information. Zuko has already known this from Pakku. _What about Uncle…_

Moosha rubbed his chin. “Such a defeat and an engagement of the North could really mess the board for the Fire Nation… I hope the Earth –“ Moosha was cut by Zuko’s _rash_ question. _He had to know…_

“What happened to Un – um, the Dragon of the West?” he asked, surprised by a deadly steadiness of his voice, even though he’d almost called him ‘uncle’.

They looked at him suspiciously, their brows frowned. “One woman said he lead the attack,” explained Shan, eyeing Zuko with a tilted head. “So, the gossips about him getting retired after Ba Sing Se must’ve been false after all. Supposedly, he was seen at the port on the only salvaged ship. The port was full of the Fire Nation Army, at least according to the guy that stood behind me when I was buying meat.”

It felt like a heavy burden was removed from his lungs and he could finally breathe again, like the broken ribs hadn’t been the biggest issue. A loud sigh escaped Zuko’s lips and he squeezed his eyes, feeling an unwelcome wet feeling in them. _Uncle survived_. Zuko didn’t realize how much effort rejecting the fear of his well-being required. He has never thought about how much it meant for him. Three years together on the ship and Zuko hadn’t realized _this_ …

“Damned Dragon,” snarled the old guy,” his time will come. The monster will end like the ones he slaughtered to get his title,” he said, protectively rubbing his stump.

The broken bowl laid at Zuko’s feet, its edges sharp and uneven. Zuko couldn’t turn his gaze from it. _Lee_ shouldn’t have reacted like that, _Lee_ shouldn’t have asked about Uncle, _Lee_ shouldn’t be relieved after hearing he survived.

It was Zuko who fucked up – _again_. Maybe his inner dread had been reassured, but it created the current danger. Zuko looked up, Heren was staring at him with frowned brows and tense expression. If the woman changed her attitude, Zuko didn’t dare to check how the bender or the old guy were looking at him.

“Lee, why did you ask about him?” she asked, her voice deadly serious, no previous lightness left. “And why are you relieved by the information?”

_Because I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to him and it would be my fault; because in three years I have never thanked him for keeping up with my behavior and never punishing me – even though he should’ve – as Father would; because I owe him that I’m still able to bend after the injury; because…_

Why did it require separation and constant death threat for Zuko to realize it?

This would be _Zuko’s_ answer – not _Lee’s_.

Zuko didn’t know Lee’s answer… he could feel how pale he became.

“I – “ he started without any lie-idea. _What would Azula say?_ “I – “ _Think, just fucking think!_ “I – I’ve met him.”

Shan’s brows shoot up, his mouth open agape. “You’ve seen The Dragon?!”

Zuko bent his bad leg a little closer to his chest, fooling himself that it could protect it from this whole disaster that for sure will collapse on him in a matter of minutes.

“Over a year ago in the port town I ran into him,” Zuko said carefully measuring his words.

“ _What?!_ You mean ‘ran’ figuratively or ‘ran-ran’ literally?!” gaped Shan.

“… Literally,” admitted Zuko, carefully observing Shan’s reaction.

“Fuck! Shit… ugh… _fuck_!” he spitted, his eyes widened, focused on Zuko’s face. “Damn, was it when, um, when… you know…” Shan gestured towards his face and circled the area around his eye, creating a shape similar to Zuko’s scar.

“ _What?!_ No!” growled Zuko, losing his composure. Shan jumped a bit, startled by his almost-yell. Heren and Moosha sat embracing each other, looking at him with wary eyes and frowned brows. Zuko swallowed the dread and tried to tone his reaction a bit. “I mean, um… No. It – it’s older,” he said looking down.

“ _Oh fuck_ … okay,” exhaled Shan. “So, what did he do?”

Zuko shrugged. “Nothing? He told me something about how running isn’t always the fastest way to reach the destination…”

“ _What?!_ That’s all?!” Zuko nodded carefully. “What did you do?”

“Nothing…” Zuko rubbed his hand self-consciously. “Um… I walked away… and when he couldn’t see me, I came back to running.”

Lauhun rapidly put his bowl on the ground, it crackled loudly, his stump pointed in Zuko’s direction, but his face turned to his family. “That’s what I’m talking about. Every other good-kid would die after that… this – _this_ ,” he waved his stump violently pointing at Zuko, “traitorous mixture cannot be trusted! It can switch sides at any moment! If it had been Shan,” Laohun pointed at the young man with his good hand, his stump still aimed at Zuko, “he would’ve ended as ashes!”

“It is not true!” yelled Zuko. “He wouldn’t burn a child for that! He wouldn’t burn a child at all!”

“FIRE NATION SYMPATHIZER!” yelled Laohun, his voice echoing in the canyon. “We should turn this ash-loving-trash to the closest army unit so they could whip the – _the curse_ out of him!”

Zuko stiffed. He instantly rubbed his writs, the weight of cuffs – the cold metal-ones and the rough stone-ones– fresh in his memory. Fresh scars and unhealed cuts stinging under his fingertips, his heart pumping in his chest fueling rising dread. _Was it even a day of being ‘free’?_

“Watch your mouth, Father!” snapped Heren, glaring at the old guy. Then she looked at Zuko suspiciously and spoke to him in a low, pacifying voice. “Nobody is going turn you anywhere,” she assured, giving a quick look to his squeezed wrist. Zuko suddenly aware of the gesture let his writs go and instead clenched his hands into fists, one firmly placed in the sling the other slightly trembling at his lap. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say it, but my father has a point. Even if he is making it like a fucking coldblooded barbarian!” Heren snarled towards Laohun, then turned again to Zuko. “Lee, you are defending _a war criminal_ , the man that almost conquered the Earth Kingdom. You _must_ explain it and better do it _damn good_ ,” she said, keeping her voice somewhere between composure and warning.

Zuko looked at her with wide eyes – she wasn’t joking. He took a deep meditative-kind breath before continuing. He stared at the ground, knowing all eyes were on him.

“I – I, when… when, I mean it – it…” he stammered like a child. _Get your shit together and tell the damn story_. Zuko exhaled and started again. “Back then I was running away from…um, the troubles – “

“I can see a pattern here,” commented Shan, his voice not cheerful but not accusatory either.

“ – That’s where I ran into the general. He saved me and help me to get away from the troubles I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Helped you… _how?_ ” Shan asked suspiciously.

“By staying with me until the danger passed… He didn’t have to, even his presence was enough to scare somebody off,” he clarified, cautiously choosing words _Lee_ could’ve used. “I was… um… I was shocked and he proposed me a cup of tea – “

“ _The fuck?!_ You went for a tea with the fucking Dragon of the West? Are you suicidal or what?!” exclaimed Shan.

Zuko rose his gaze and glared at the non-bender. “ _What_? Was I supposed to _decline him_?”

“Shut up and let him finish,” growled Heren.

Zuko took another breath. “I went with him, and we drank it, and he kept talking about insignificant things just to corrupt my head from – umm… _just to corrupt my head_. He was kind, and it wasn’t… any ploy. It was one –,” Zuko’s voice became quieter, “ – one of the best afternoons I had.”

Zuko hadn’t suddenly discovered his hidden Azula-lying-skills… No.

The story was true, sort of… He had been a child running away from Azula’s mischief. One of the strictest firebending tutors had been furious with him (which had been Azula’s fault in the first place). He had been running away from him, like a coward he’s always been, and he’d bumped into Uncle. The tea had been nice, Uncle’s stories the most interesting thing he’d ever heard… Nonetheless, Zuko hadn’t run from the consequences, on the next day Father knew everything, and he’d faced his punishment…

Which didn’t change the fact that the evening with Uncle had been one of the nicest he had… Especially after Mother had been gone.

„Lee,” said Moosha in his medical tone, “that doesn’t change the war-facts.”

Zuko checked the man’s expression cautiously – tense but not furious. “I’ve never said it does,” he said confidently. “I’m just saying the man I’ve met wouldn’t have hurt just for the sake of hurting… especially a child.”

Zuko has never seen Uncle as a fearful general those people perceived him. He had seen him as a loving father to Lu Ten, kind prince towards the palace staff, irritating tea lover to… _everyone around_ … Zuko hadn’t seen Uncle at the walls of Ba Sing Se, the death of Lu Ten had changed him _diametrically_. Even before that, there was no such a possibility that his Uncle would hurt, even some peasant earth kid, just for his own pleasure. _Uncle wasn’t Zhao_.

Zuko had no doubts Uncle Iroh deserved his range, that he had almost won this war. It required violence. If the Fire Nation wanted to expand its reign, it requires a certain amount of force. But the war front couldn’t be equaled to _interacting with peasants_.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve just said,” gawked Shan.

“ _I’m not lying_. It happened.”

“And I’m not saying you’re lying, I’m saying, I can’t imagine the fearsome general casually drinking and chatting with some brat,” clarified Shan. “Moosha, you sure he isn’t concussed?”

“ _I’m not_ ,” snarled Zuko.

“He’s not,” admitted Moosha.

Zuko shifted his position a bit, so he could at least dodge a hit if necessary. Moosha was eyeing him without any visible emotion. Zuko jumped when Laohun shot his hands in the air.

“This only proves my point! I don’t care about Ash-lover’s reasons! We have to cut this nonsense right away!” he yelled. “I’m not going to believe that the fucking Dragon of the West wouldn’t kill all of us at the first spot! They want us to believe this!”

Zuko clenched his fist at the crouch lying next to him. “That’s not true!” Zuko yelled back.

“Oh? You want to pretend an earth citizen, scum?” Laohun asked. “Anyone respecting themselves wouldn’t say any good word about fire trashes! You should have fucking killed him when you had a chance or die trying! Then I would maybe consider that the fucking half-breed may turn out okay.”

Zuko felt his blood boiling in his veins, his inner flame dangerously flicking in his stomach, wanting to erupt outside. “You are the one talking about the cold-blooded murder, old man!” yelled Zuko, losing his temper. “Tell me who’s fucking worst at this moment!?”

“You disgusting _thing_!” Laohun yelled back, turning red from anger. “You should be fucking whipped until all the dirty blood leaves your body and send to the ashmakers so they could see what will remain of them when the Earth Kingdom will destroy them!”

Zuko’s back hurt, phantom pain piercing his entire body, adrenaline taming fear, and fueling anger. He couldn’t think when Laohun looked at him with pure hate – he looked at _Lee_ with pure hate.

 _Zuko_ would be probably slaughtered in a matter of seconds.

“Shut your fucking mouth father!” Heren’s sharp voice echoed through the canyon. “ _Do you even hear yourself?!_ ”

Zuko didn’t know how he stood up. His hand clenched on the crutch trembled the same as his legs, but he couldn’t be here any longer. His control was on edge, the fear was drilling a hole in his chest.

He was glad they weren’t in the cave anymore. Zuko began to retreat, not letting any member of the family from his sight. Heren and Shan were looking at him and he couldn’t let them… Moosha was in the middle of standing up… couldn’t let them… He had to be alone. He needed silence for a second. Breathing was becoming hard.

“ _Lee_ ,” Heren said in a soothing voice, which at this moment only aroused Zuko’s dread.

“Pl – please… let me… don’t… go… after me… _please_ ,” he gaped between his ragged breaths, pathetic pleads, the world was swaying in his eyes, his inner turmoil getting out of control.

He stopped breathing when he turned his back on them, but it was the fastest way to get the hell out of there. He limped into the random turn and limp-run till he could no longer hear any voices.

He sat on the ground, feeling every nerve of his body scream, the painkillers didn’t work anymore, the adrenaline slowly leaving his body. Zuko was trembling.

But it didn’t matter what would happen next.

_Uncle was okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went wilder than I've thought... I REALLY want to hear your thoughts after this argument. But Zuko just dig himself into it... kinda at least (¬_¬ ) and then it escalated
> 
> Sometimes I feel that I'm doing Laohun "too drastic"..... but then I'm swiping through the FB or tt and well... People indeed are fucking dumb and closed in their tiny bubbles -.-
> 
> I really looking forward to your opinions on any of the characters!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting that for Zuko it was something around one week when for me it’s the second (or third??) month of writing it 😅
> 
> Just want to say that in case someone has amnesia like me. Sometimes I think that he’s acting too “unstable” but then I’m like OHHHHH.... ok he had every right to do it. 
> 
> Ok, that’s it. Enjoy!

The terrified boy limped away into the darkness of the canyon, barely managing not to stumble on his wobbly legs. Heren stopped Moosha, who was ready to stand up and intervene. She doubted it would end well after hearing his pleading tone, begging to let him go. It was better for him to calm down alone, later she would send boys for him. It’s better he wouldn’t hear what is going to come next.

Her blood boiled in her veins as she turned towards her family. Shan was biting his fingernails, a stupid habit he’d got as a teen; Moosha looked steady as a stone but Heren saw the way the muscle on his jaw was twitching. She glanced at her father, looking for even the tiniest bit of guilt but find none. Heren wanted to scream.

Where was the man that had lulled her to sleep while singing forgotten lullabies?

 _Died at war_ , she answered herself bitterly.

Heren took a deep calming breath, even though she knew what is about to happen wouldn’t be calm at all.

“Are you proud of yourself, Father?” she asked, her tone deadly steady.

Laohun was panting, his face reddened, small drops of sweat on his forehead. “We can’t let – “ he started, but Heren cut him fast. She asked a question and she wanted to hear an answer.

“ _I asked…_ Are you fucking proud of yourself?” she repeated, her tone no longer calm but it wasn’t a yell yet.

Heren knew that face… Father looked at her furious, his anger channeled at her without the man realizing it, Lao was like that… Act first, regret, and don’t admit your fault later.

“I didn’t raise you to defend fire-loving scums!” he rebuked.

This took her aback, maybe even hurt a bit. She was ready to blow up. “ _Oh, really?!_ I’m lucky you weren’t a monster who has no problem with whipping kids when you were raising me! Or maybe you want to give me belated ones now, _huh_?!”

Laohun looked at her as if he were slapped. “This half-breed defended the fucking Dragon! You asked me to tolerate him, and I did… Until I heard that a murderer from Ba Sing Se is a caring tea-lover!”

“We asked him to explain this! He didn’t start spitting propaganda in our faces himself!” she yelled. “He could’ve lied but he fucking didn’t! And you did what?! You fucking told him you wish him to get tortured and murdered afterward!” Heren felt tears gathering in her eyes but she wasn’t finished yet. Father looked at her with clenched teeth. After a long pause, she added. “Lee was right. You are worse than them.”

“ _What?”_

“You heard me. You became worst than the Fire Nation,” at this point her heart beaten so loud that she couldn’t tell if she said it to stab him or if she really meant it.

Laohun shook his head. “How can my own daughter – “

“Shut up!” she interrupted him. “I can swallow you being a racist, but I won’t tolerate… I – I won’t let you be like that,” she said through a clenched throat.

Tears slowly began to escape her eyes, Laohun saw it too and his face softened slightly. Moosha tried to embrace her but she wasn’t finished yet. Heren shook his hand and straightened her back.

“The war is a tragedy, and you know it too well,” she said. “Who we are is the only thing it can’t take away from us. When I’m looking at you, I think I was wrong…”

“How can you…” said Laohun, his tone less aggressive.

“You are worse than the Dragon – ”

_“What?!”_

“ _Shut up!_ ” she snapped. “You are worse than the Dragon for an orphaned kid. _Of course_ , you will say you don’t care what a half-breed thinks of you… Shit! Father, Lee got more kindness from that enemy’s general than for you! Again, are you proud?”

Laohun was staring at her with a slightly opened mouth. It was a good start, so Heren pushed further despite tears on her cheeks.

“Because of people like you, kids like Lee cling to any – _any_ – kind of decency they can get. Enemy general or not. When you struggle to fucking live from day to day you don’t care about the war! For Lee, Dragon is a kind man who helped him, and you are a dick he had to run away from because you threatened him with _whipping_!”

“You understand nothing,” he said through clenched teeth. “You wasn’t on the front, Heren. The ones like him can't be trusted they have no loyalty.”

Heren’s tears reached her chin, she swept them with her sleeve. “I wouldn’t blame him if he would choose the Fire Nation.“ Laohun inhaled sharply hearing it. “The Earth Kingdom never cared for him and it’s our fucking fault! The war did this to us!” she yelled, her voice broke on the last words.

This time she let Moosha hug her and leaned into his warm chest. He understood – _he always did._ She sniffled before continuing, all the anger finally disappeared, now it was only sadness. _Why were they forced to live in these cruel times?_

“ _Dad_ ,” she started softly, looking her father in the eyes, “you survived the war not to became a monster afterward. Please… I can’t… I don’t want to see you this way…”

“I – I,” gaped Laohun, looking at her with a tiny bit of softness she remembered from her childhood.

Heren turned to Moosha. “Take Shan and find Lee. _Be careful_.” She turned to look at her father. “Give as a moment, ok?”

“Of course, Love,” Moosha kissed her forehead and left with Shan.

Heren gazed at her father’s pale face. They haven’t got a heart-to-heart in years… She won’t waste the opportunity.

* * *

The canyon was dark and quiet, so different from Zuko’s spiraling mind that kept trying to raise a new wave of unwanted panic. At least he’d managed to calm his breathing already, his forehead rested on his bent knee, this way it was easier to pretend he wasn’t really _here_ , his ribs didn’t like the position though. To be specific his entire body didn’t like it – ‘it’ as an existing in general.

The outburst and following flee had been unnecessary and childish. These people would have mentioned something about Uncle at some point and he wouldn’t have to come up with explanations… Zuko has never known when to shut his fucking mouth, stupid emotions have always left him fucked.

 _Emotions make you weak_ , a phantom voice scolded him in his head.

It wasn’t safe to stay here but Zuko couldn’t find any strength to even think about wandering through the dark paths, firebending would be too dangerous… and too exhausting.

Zuko was familiar with being hated – his crew hadn’t been subtle after three years of sailing under his command – but the way Laohun looked at him was… _new_. Especially considering the fact that _Lee_ hadn’t done anything, they didn’t know who Zuko was – by some Agni’s miracle, his lies-and-half-truths mix had worked. The old man’s hate was extremely ferocious even with a few reasons _Lee_ had given him.

A brief interaction with an enemy general and being mixed race.

Zuko felt confused… he was upset but on Lee’s behalf… _Great._ Going crazy would only spice up his wonderful last week. _Feeling bad for your made-up persona… What next? Hallucinations seem like an interesting option._

Unfortunately, light glimmering on the canyon’s wall wasn’t a hallucination.

* * *

The kid shouldn’t move after the painkillers have stopped working. It had happened a few moments before they had decided to set a camp for the night. Lee hadn’t mentioned it though. Moosha had spotted it in more wary steps and shortness of breath.

Now, Lee was… somewhere. No matter how stubborn the kid might be, he wouldn’t have made it too far.

“Maybe let’s check the left one?” suggested Shan, with concerned wrinkles on his forehead.

Moosha knew that when they finally find the kid, they would have to be careful. The boy had been terrified even before Laohun crossed the damn line and threatened him. Heren made that quite clear. He hoped that after they had almost choked each other, they would find a common ground.

Shan elbowed him slightly. “There’s someone behind the boulder on the right,” he whispered, pointing to the said spot with his torch.

They walked a couple of steps closer and spotted a crutch laying on the ground. Moosha gestured to Shan to get around the boulder, so Lee wouldn’t be startled by them approaching from his back.

Lee was sitting on the ground, curled as much as his body let him, wide eyes – or eye – twitching between them. Shan waved at him, an awkward smile on his face. “Hey… You are damn good in hide-and-seek,” he attempted to joke. _Classical Shan_ , Moosha thought bitterly.

Moosha stood behind Shan, careful not to loom over the scared boy. He wasn’t sure if it was because of him being a bender or some other reason but from the beginning, Lee has been more distrustful of him than from the others.

Suddenly Lee’s gaze fixed on Moosha as if he’d realized something. “Sorry… sorry I – I didn’t mean… I hadn’t thought…” Moosha frowned. He had no idea what Lee was talking about. “Just let me go… I’ll give it back… just please, don’t…” he mumbled.

The boy began taking off the sling. Something inside Moosha’s chest shattered.

“No, stop it,” said Moosha, taming the urge to move his hands to stop him. Lee froze in the middle of his motion. “We didn’t come for the stuff, we came for you.”

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say.

Lee’s breathing picked up and became ragged. “No – no… I will go, I – I won’t cause any troubles… just leave me alone… I – I’m not… Please let me go,” he pleaded, looking up to meet Moosha’s eyes.

Something in Moosha’s chest shattered again.

He crouched, keeping his distance. “Calm down,” he said gently. “We came for you because we were _worried_ about you.”

“That’s right!” Shan nodded eagerly.

Lee didn’t answer. He looked like he didn’t understand what had been said. Moosha moved his hands slowly, joining them in front of him.

“We owe you an apology for not stopping Laohun in time. We’ve been taken aback by your story but that doesn’t excuse us. We are sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry… Lao went wild and he can be a pain in the ass,” added Shan, scratching his neck sheepishly.

Lee narrowed his eye. “You want to keep helping me after that?” he questioned, his tone almost provocative.

“After what exactly?” asked Moosha. It was better to know Lee’s thought process before taking this conversation further.

Lee tensed after the question and Moosha thought asking it was a mistake, a hidden trigger of the boy, but then he started talking.

“After what I said about the general… I yelled at Heren’s father… I destroyed your bowl, wasted your supplies, and… and I shouldn’t have to interrupt your conversation in the first place.”

“We don’t care about the bowl dude!” laughed Shan, but his expression was uncomfortable. “I destroyed like… four mugs this week! Chill…Moosha is a bender he can make spare ones before we reach a market.”

“Lee,” started Moosha having some idea how the boy’s mind worked, “we made you tell the story and even if it was shocking for us, no one had a right to yell at you. Laohun crossed a line acting towards you the way he did. He’s a stubborn, war-hardened old man and I doubt you will hear apologies from him… But know that we are sorry for what happened.”

Shan waved his hand extending his pointing finger, Lee slightly flinched but tried to hide it. “But after Heren badgermoled him he understood he was a dick!”

Lee frowned. “Badger… what?”

Shan frowned back, Moosha rolled his eyes and explained. “’Badgermoled’ means ‘gets angry’… Kids these days are weird. It’s good you haven’t heard it before,” Moosha cracked a smile towards Lee.

“ _Sure_ , Mighty Wise Old Man,” muttered Shan.

Lee tensed again. “Heren _yelled_ at her father?” he asked, a note of dread hidden in his tone. Suddenly Moosha remembered that Lee’s father was Fire Nation.

“They still love each other,” assured him Moosha. Lee quickly looked down. “It’s good to vent at each other from time to time.”

Shan crossed his arms and scowled at Moosha. “You have never said it to me when I complained about dumb people in my school.”

Moosha sighed, pretending he hadn’t heard that. “Please, Lee, will you come back with us?” Lee eyed him hesitantly. “Nothing Laohun had said won’t happen, you’ve got my word.”

Moosha didn’t know if his word would mean something for Lee but the boy nodded after considering it for a moment. Moosha smiled at him and nodded back.

“I’m honored with your trust,” thanked him Moosha. The boy cringed and turned his gaze to the ground again. “So, let’s go,” he said, reaching out his hand to Lee.

The boy took it.

* * *

It wasn’t hard to find them when Shan’s voice echoed through the canyon. They were close and Shan’s tone was light, so they had to find him. Heren exhaled with relief and decided to wait for them here – just one turn from the camp, where Laohun was preparing tea. She wanted to talk with Lee first.

“ – and now it’s the best part! Listen…” _Yeah…_ definitely Shan. “I told him it was a pebble! A pebble! Do you get it? It’s _hilarious_!”

Heren saw three silhouettes emerging from the corner. Lee limped between Moosha’s huge frame and Shan’s constantly moving shape. Heren smiled slightly.

“Lee, it’s better if you don’t ‘ _get it’_ ,” sighed Moosha.

“Screw you, you humorless bag of bandages!” scoffed Shan. “Lee is young. There’s still hope for him to get acquainted with the art of _good_ humor! Hello Heren!” Shan waved at her when they got closer.

They stopped in front of her and she exchanged a fast look with Moosha – everything was fine. Then she looked at the boy in the middle, who avoided her eyes which were still red and puffy since the talk with Father.

“Tea is almost ready,” she announced. “Would you both help Lao with it? I would like to talk with Lee if he doesn’t mind.”

That forced the boy to look up. “No. I mean, um… No, I don’t mind,” he said anxiously.

“Great,” she smiled. “We will be back in a minute.”

The boys walked away, she could hear loud and clear that Shan hadn’t given up on proving to Moosha ‘the brilliance’ of his joke. Between her and Lee loomed uncomfortable silence. The boy was mainly staring at the ground, looking up only for brief seconds. Heren wanted the talk so it was her job to start it, at least she thought so…

“I apologize for my behavior,” he said in a weirdly formal tone. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice or storm off like that.”

Heren was taken aback. “Kiddo, we are the ones to apologize after it, but I’m sure Moosha already told you that.” Lee looked up and nodded. “So, I’m sorry. I talked with my father he won’t speak to you like that again.”

Lee once again looked up, frowning, his face in pure confusion. “Umm… It’s fine.”

Heren wasn’t sure if he was accepting an apology or saying what had happened was fine… She felt the new wave of tears forcing themselves into her eyes. Normally she wasn’t so… _unstable_. Lee was a real trigger for her oversensitive empathy; a painful reminder _why_ she and Moosha haven’t got kids…

“Listen… I understand that you probably don’t want to talk about it anymore, so, um, you don’t have to answer,” said Heren. She carefully observed Lee’s reactions to know if she had to stop. The boy was eyeing her cautiously, but he was doing it _all the time_ with everyone, so she continued. “You really got attached to that general?”

Lee looked down and nodded. “No many people was ever kind to me,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Heren felt more tears gathering in her eyes. “Not that I deserve it… You don’t have to tell me how pathetic it is… I know that.”

It was hard but she pretended she hadn’t heard that last part.

 _Questions first, actions later_.

“So, you are saying the famous Dragon is actually a good man?” Lee hesitated. “Don’t think that!” she pointed, and he jumped a little. “I’m not trying to lure you into politics or anything. I just… Well, the war, you know, shitty times for everything. It would be uplifting information that the ones on the other side aren’t pure evil… if you know what I mean.” _Shit, now she was the one mumbling…_

“I think General Iroh is a good person…and – and even in the war he, um, he… wouldn’t have done… _anything awful_ …”

Huh… uplifting. A tiny bit but still _uplifting_.

“And now the other thing…” she said and unexpectedly but carefully embraced Lee’s shoulders.

The kid tensed under her touch – _it wasn’t surprising_ – and stopped breathing. Heren knew she wasn’t bringing him any pain, she barely touched him. Lee didn’t seem to relax as if he didn’t know how to behave. Stopping tears became harder and harder…

_Has anyone ever hugged this boy?_

When Lee hadn’t moved Heren released him, leaving only one gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder. The boy was staring at her, totally confused.

She wiped the tear that dropped from her eye, Lee frowned. “Everyone deserves kindness, kiddo.” Lee looked down. Heren released his shoulder. “The Earth Kingdom fucking failed you… I want you to remember this,” she said, waiting until he met her eyes to continue. “I’m competitive,” she said with confidence, trying to hide her unstable emotions. “I won’t be worse than the damned Dragon.”

_“…What?”_

“I want to be on an elite list of people that have been kind to you,” she said smiling.

* * *

Zuko didn’t understand a damn thing that had happened. _The apologizes? The hug?_ What the…

No. He was too tired to try to understand all of this.

After the talk with Heren, they had come back to the camp. The old man hadn’t said a word or even looked in Zuko’s direction – it definitely worked for Zuko.

Moosha had given him two cups – one with an actual tea, and one with Moosha’s versions of tea. Zuko hadn’t complained about drinking painkillers. This time he even wished it would muffle his thoughts – he was too tired for dealing with them.

He was sitting in the same spot as if nothing had happened. After some time, the others laid on the ground, trying to find a comfortable position. Zuko did the same, even if he doubted, he would be able to sleep. Refusing to think about all of this was the one thing… sleeping next to the man who had remaindered him of _Pakku’s treatment_ was the other.

Apparently, he was wrong. He drifted off to sleep in a blink.

The nightmares have been waiting there for him. He missed a dreamless sleep when his mind was too exhausted to create anything.

Everything changed but the nightmares stayed the same _._

_The Agni Kai Chamber… The disappointment in Father's eyes… The pain of burning skin…_

_You will never be enough…_

_That’s why I’ve banished you… I knew you will turn out a traitor…_

_Disappointment…_

Zuko was awaked by a sudden pain in his bruised side, everything else hurt as well – he had to toss and turn in his sleep. _Nothing unusual_.

In the dim light of the campfire Laohun’s eyes were staring at him. Zuko was sure it would be his end. But the man hadn’t got any weapon… He held Zuko’s crutch… he’d poked Zuko’s side with it.

“Shut up, brat! End that tossing-whimpering bullshit and fucking sleep,” he rebuked in a low whisper.

Zuko expected to be murdered but the old guy turned away from him. He didn’t have time to think about _what the fuck happened_ … His eyelids were too heavy, he fell asleep with another blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second hug everybody! *non-consensual hug warning XD*
> 
> I hope that this chapter added something to Laohun (share your feelings folks!). This chapter had been the less-Zuko-centred (or maybe Zuko's-pov) so far... I hope it's still engaging because I'm trying to give the others some personality but the story is supposed to circle around our main star. 
> 
> I also get a feeling that what happened here could change Zuko's look at the war and all the stuff around it... or the acts of kindness of course. It's for sure a good beginning
> 
> Time of leaving the canyon is slowly coming 🤔🤔 PLEASE COMMENT it gives me a life-force :))))


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone wonders why suddenly Zuko sleeps weirdly well (for his standards)…. Heren. Heren and her “I will drug the boy, just a bit out of love.”  
> Don’t judge her

Zuko woke up when the first rays of the sun reached his face, he’d almost forgot how good it felt to rise with the sun. He sat up carefully, afraid of disturbing others that seem to be still deep in their sleep. In the middle of bending his bad leg, Zuko froze when the old guy moved in his sleep. Zuko definitely had a nightmare – he was sure of that… but did the part with the man also happen in his dream? It didn’t fit – it’d ended too well for the standards of his nightmares.

Just another thing he didn’t understand.

Besides the short episode, he’d slept surprisingly well… Zuko was afraid that his self-preservation instincts began to disappear. Although he wouldn’t waste the first possibility to meditate to bother with that.

He closed his eyes and _breathed_. His inner flame has grown much stronger since he’d left the North… back then it’d been bad. To keep himself from freezing, he’d to constantly control his body temperature – back then he hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it, it had happened subconsciously. It explained why he had been so exhausted. Controlling body temperature for such a long period of time was hard to even for good benders not to mention faulty ones…

Zuko wasn’t sure how long he sat and just breathe in peace. He didn’t dare to take control of the dying flame of the campfire, even though it was tempting. When he sensed a motion somewhere on his left, he immediately opened his eyes to see slowly awakening Shan. The boy made a disturbing noise, stretched weirdly, and sat up.

“Wakey! Wakey! Ba Sing Se won’t come to us,” he said and yawned afterward. Heren rubbed her eyes and freed herself from Moosha’s arms, the man didn’t look ready to waking yet. “Oh, Lee, you are already up,” Shan said surprised.

“Um, yes… for a while,” answered Zuko.

Laohun sat up as well. The man didn’t bother himself with looking at others, he started rubbing his stump, looking somewhere in the distance. Moosha only changed the side he was laying on. Zuko hasn’t expected the huge bender to be the sleep-lover of the group.

Heren took some leaves from her bag and placed the kettle over the fire. She looked up at Zuko. “You slept good, Lee?”

Zuko briefly looked at Laohun for any kind of confirmation if the night happened for real or was it just his dream. The old man didn’t look at him. “Um, fine, thank you.” From the corner of his eye, he saw that Laohun glared at him for a second. _So, it was real?_

Heren continued working on her herbs, poking Moosha from time to time but the bender ignored her. Shan began packing everything. Zuko felt an urge to help him – he already was a dead weight for them – it felt bad just sit around doing nothing. But he couldn’t exactly _move_ with only one good arm and leg, messing with their supplies would be a bad idea, and the only thing he could actually help with was the fire – which was off-limits for obvious reasons.

Heren’s voice interrupted his inner debate. “Time for your morning dose of poison, Lee,” she said cheerfully and handed him a cup, he could tell by the smell it was her pain-killing-mixture.

Zuko accepted a cup. “Thanks. There’s no need for it though I – “

“There _is_ need for it – ” said Moosha and yawned afterward. He elevated himself on his elbow so he could look at Zuko. “You need to keep your breathing as deep – “ Moosha yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “ – as you can, and it works anti-inflamm – “ another yawn escaped his mouth.

Heren giggled. “You are so grumpy in the mornings… I think Lee gets it, right?”

Zuko nodded and drank everything. There was no point in denying something that really worked well, besides, he had to be careful to stay on the good side of the earthbender.

Heren took a cup from him and packed it into the bag. Then she smiled weirdly, raising her eyebrow. “So… I’m already better than the Dragon in the number of drinks served to you. Am I correct?” she asked, smiling proudly.

_She could’ve drowned him in the lake of tea and even then, she wouldn’t have beat Uncle._

Zuko nodded and smiled weakly, imagining how indignant Uncle would be knowing that someone wanted to compete with him in tea-making. Heren seemed satisfied though.

Shan stopped whatever he was doing and looked at Heren. “I won’t pretend I understand anything that’s going on here, but please, Heren, don’t try to conquer Ba Sing Se since your new hobby is being _the Dragon_ … We kind of going there so we need a city in one piece.”

Heren rolled her eyes and chuckled. “No promises.”

* * *

Heren and Shan kept saying that they should leave the canyon in a few hours or so, which didn’t change a fact that the last part of the road was more difficult than the rest. Zuko struggled when their path became uneven, it was hard not to put the crutch on unstable stone. The others with their heavy bags hadn’t got it any easier. So, by mutual agreement they made more short breaks to rest.

When they stopped the third time Zuko finally decided to ask the question that has been in his mind from the morning. To do this he’d intentionally sat next to Shan even though it equaled too much talking for Zuko’s liking. Zuko had to wait for a short pause between Shan’s changes of topic.

“Um… Have you got a map?”

“Yeah.”

“Could I take a look at it?” he asked anxiously.

Shan grabbed his bag. “Sure,” he said. After a moment he handed Zuko a rolled piece of paper. “Here it is, but our compass died a while ago.”

Zuko freed his arm from the sling and unrolled the map. It wasn’t very detailed, but he could clearly recognize the part of the Earth Kingdom it showed. Fong’s base was marked in the bottom corner, Fire Colony was not but Zuko could more or less recall where it should be.

Shan pointed his finger somewhere in the center of the map. “We are more or less here. There,” He moved his finger to the left, “we entered the canyon,” He moved his finger a bit right, alongside the canyon’s edge,” here we’ve found you, “ He pointed at the spot on the right where the map changed color, “There we will leave this hole.”

Zuko nodded and continued studying the map. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, there wasn’t any place he could head to. The most important was to avoid military bases and big towns, at least for the time he was incapable of defending himself and staying away from the Fire Nation.

There had to be a way to fix _this mess_ … he just didn’t found it yet.

The north-east direction looked the most promising – mostly small towns and military inactive areas. Zuko looked at the sun to confirm he’d guessed the north-east correctly – _yes_ , thanks to the boring hours he’d spent with the helmsman. After leaving the canyon he should turn east to avoid big town on the merchants' way to Ba Sing Se, the rest probably planned to go there.

“Why did you do that?” Shan frowned.

“Did what?”

“You looked at the map, then at the sky, and back at the map.”

“Oh…” Zuko hadn’t realized – the action was mechanical for him, “I checked if I judged the compass points correctly.”

Shan frowned and crocked his head. “ _You what?_ How? Don’t you need a compass for that?”

“Not exactly... Tracking the sun movements works as well.”

Shan opened his mouth, his eyes wide open. Zuko felt dread – it looked like it wasn’t common knowledge in the Earth Kingdom.

“Can you teach me?” asked Shan, genuine interest on his face.

Zuko considered it for a moment… Teaching enemies navigation techniques were an unforgivable act of treason – this much was clear. But Shan wasn’t a military officer, he wasn’t interested or involved in the war… His request was genuine, made out of pure curiosity, and it was becoming harder and harder to think of his in a simple term such as _‘enemy’_ …

“It’s not an Earth Kingdom technique,” said Laohun, his voice hoarse and accusatory. It was clearly visible that the old man was implying the foreignness of the trick.

“Does it matter?” snapped Zuko, surprised by his sudden irritation. “It works.”

The old man glared at him and Zuko glared back. The trick wasn’t entirely connected to war efforts, it helped merchants or sailors as well, nonetheless, the old man saw only the fact it was _unfamiliar_. The Fire Nation would share its ways and greatness if only the rest of the world _simply cooperated_.

“Lee has a point,” said Heren, sending a warning glare towards Laohun. “How did you learn?”

“One helmsman taught me.” Zuko was _so glad_ that sometimes his own answers fit as Lee’s.

“Cool, cool, so will you tell me how it works?” asked Shan, sitting cross-legged in front of him.

Zuko felt it was _wrong,_ but he had no idea of any good excuse to say no. The way Shan’s eyes widened when he began explaining somehow eased his doubts. It felt nice to be the one explaining something _for once_.

* * *

“Are you kidding me?!” exclaimed Shan. They have been walking again for a while and Zuko already had enough of being the one trying to teach something.

“It’s easier this way,” said Zuko, trying not to breathe steam. “Around midday it’s hard to tell where the sun is going, so it’s better to remember where it rose.”

Zuko had to explain it avoiding the whole _‘firebenders feel the sun’_ thing. He didn’t suspect it could be this hard.

Shan sighed and rubbed his eyes. Zuko had told him not to look directly at the sun for too long but he hadn’t listened and toppled afterward. “ _Holy Dirty Bagermoles_ bless the invention of the compass!”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “The sun won’t stop working, as your compass did.”

“Hey! Don’t be a dick towards my dead comrade!”

“Spirits help me,” muttered Zuko.

Heren giggled behind their backs. “Lee, give him some credit,” she said. “It was his first lover, his poor young heart is broken.”

Shan turned and pointed his finger at her. “Hey!” he exclaimed, a slight blush on his face. “Not my _first_! And not my _lover_ either!”

“Sure, sure,” mocked Heren.

“You both,” Shan pointed at Zuko and Heren, “choke on your sun and bullshit. I’m done,” he said and dramatically stomped to join Laohun.

Zuko thought of Shan as the least potential threat of the group – either because of his light and irritating attitude or their similar age. And now… was it time to start watching his back? Was the boy really mad about what Zuko had said? He has been always so terrible at this whole _people-thing_.

Heren joined Zuko by his side. “Don’t worry,” she said, looking at his face. “Shan likes to be dramatic. He’s not mad at any of us.”

“Uh… that’s good.” He felt ashamed and relieved at the same time. _Why did he even care what that peasant thinks of him?!_

“I remember we agreed to travel together until we leave the canyon but feel free to stick with us any time you want. We can help you get to Ba Sing Se… I heard they give jobs to refugees without asking too many questions.”

“I’m not going to Ba Sing Se, thank you for the proposition.”

“So… maybe you would stay with us until you heal?” she asked. “It’s not safe to travel alone in your condition.”

Zuko knew she was right. He wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

“I’m fine. I’ve already overused your generosity.”

Heren growled and Zuko flinched. He looked at her from the corner of his good eye, the woman must’ve noticed his tensed posture, because she forced a smile and continued in a gentle tone. “We talked about this… You don’t have to pay us back or anything.”

Zuko nodded, staring at the ground.

“I will be honest now,” continued Heren, her voice still low but irritated. “I’m worried about you. How will you get food? Huh? You are in no shape to do physical work, Lee. What are you going to do? Steal? Good luck with running. What if you meet assholes similar to the ones that did this,” she gestured at his leg, “to you? I swear you don’t have to be afraid of us…”

The worst thing was that the woman was right.

It would be a smarter choice to stick with them for a little bit longer, at least until he could walk normally… Maybe he could even stay with them long enough, so he could start paying back his debt… Except for the old man Zuko actually _liked_ the family, and… and they seemed to like him back.

No.

They liked _Lee_ back.

Zuko was the one that had to disappear as soon as he could. If someone caught him with them, they would be in trouble too… The Earth Kingdom would accuse them of helping the enemy’s prince and the Fire Nation would punish them for helping a traitor. Zuko couldn’t let this happened – they had saved his life. It was a matter of honor, of not being a coward… If Zuko wanted to come back to the Fire Nation ever again, he had to start working on his faulty traits now.

Besides if another questioning happened, he couldn’t be sure his stupid mouth wouldn’t have blown up his cover completely. The family would be kind to Lee – _not Zuko_.

“You… you promised,” Zuko started quietly, looking at the ground, “to let me go. So please… um, please stop.” _Zuko was afraid he would finally agree_. “I have to find my… find my own way.”

Heren looked at him sadly, her gaze heavy on his shoulders. _Why did he feel guilty?_ The woman rubbed her cheek… which was weird and nodded. “Of course, yeah, sure. Yeah,” she said, her voice break somewhere between the words. She cleared her throat. “We don’t have any money to give you – “

“I don’t – “

“ _Hush_ ,” she quieted him. “ _To lend you_ if that makes you feel better. But I can help you otherwise, you Stubborn Brat. Now, be quiet and listen. If you spot a plant – “

For the next hour, Heren was telling Zuko about various plants. She warned him of the poisonous ones and gave him some tips on how to differ them. She promised to supply him with herbs to make a painkiller and told him how to do it.

 _Why?_ Zuko had no idea. But he memorized as much as he could.

Later Heren called Moosha and the medic gave him another lecture about _not-dying_. He made Zuko repeat after him, which was stupid. The bender told him three times to wear the sling for at least a week more and use a crutch _constantly_ until the bruising disappeared completely.

It was almost like they cared about him. Moosha had said they had been worried when he’d disappear after the argument with Laohun. It hadn’t been an hour.

Father hadn’t cared once for three years he was away.

Zuko hasn’t deserved it – he knew it. But the low standards of those peasants somehow made his heart hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spoiled you with chapters 4k words each. Now the shorter and calmer one :)
> 
> We are reaching the point of separation... aren't we?? What Zuko should do? 
> 
> Idk why but Moosha being sleep-lover is funny for me lmao. Don't judge.
> 
> OK so --> comment pretty please I'm always happy to hear from you. Predictions, feelings, rants, and more everything is welcomed!!!


	8. Chapter 8

The long lectures that have been given by Heren and Moosha had a few (more or less hidden) suggestions for Zuko to stick with them for a little bit longer. Now, they were walking with Shan a small distance behind him, speaking too quietly for Zuko to eavesdrop on anything useful. The path has become smooth again, so he wouldn’t have to worry about stumbling with every step. He was well aware that the family was watching him, he could feel their gazes on his back, but at least the old man was walking in front of him. They had an unofficial glare-battle since the comment about the map.

It was the first opportunity to look closer at the man without risking a cruel insult at best, death at the worst scenario. It was possible the man was around Uncle’s age but if so, Uncle was doing this _being-old-thing_ much better. Laohun’s hair was in a grey shade just like Uncle’s but it was thinner, styled into a greasy bun at the nape of his neck. The man was _much_ skinnier than Uncle, skinnier to the point when it looked emaciated. It was strange, considering that the rest of the family looked good and they voluntarily shared their food, so they couldn’t starve.

The old man hadn’t got his right hand.

The limb ended with mutilated tissue just in front of the place where the wrist should be. This couldn’t have been a clear slash, the stump was uneven and disfigured at the end. What was left of the bone had to be crushed. The tissue was blackened at the end like… _like it was burned_. Was the injury cauterized to stop the blood-loss or… or had the burn been the reason? Zuko hoped it was the first option. He couldn’t imagine the pain of the burn that caused the whole hand to… to melt away.

He felt the phantom throbbing on his face.

“Stop glaring, Scum!” snarled Laohun.

The man stopped and turned to Zuko. He froze in place, only a small distance between them. He had to unintentionally come closer when he was looking at Laohun’s hand. Now, the man's face presented pure anger, not hate like before, just anger.

“Sorry… I – I’m sorry…” mumbled Zuko, he meant it. He didn’t like staring as well, and many times he’d reacted the same way.

“ _Sorry_ ,” sneered the man. He slowly rose his hand, it was only inches from Zuko’s face. It took much self-control not to flinch and stay in place. He could take the blow for that – this time he actually had done something to the man. “You must be wondering, so I will tell you what your fucking relatives do – “

“ _Father –_ “ said Heren, a clear warning in her voice coming from behind but Zuko didn’t dare to stop looking at the man in front of him.

“No, Heren,” said Laohun. “We fell into their trap. Fucking cowards didn’t dare to fight fair! They took us prisoners and decided to fucking celebrate this! They got drunk and one of them took a sword to do show-off.” The man’s voice was deadly steady, but his eyes were full of emotions Zuko couldn’t name. He was ready to take the hit at any moment, the hand was just inches from his face. “This ended in one cut-throat and _this_ ,” he empathized it by pointing at his stump.

“But – but it’s burned,” pointed Zuko. Looking this closely he spotted the same almost black kind of tissue that covered his eyelid – mostly numb but sometimes it felt like spikes were piercing through it.

“No shit, bright boy,” he snarled. From the corner of Zuko’s good eye, he spotted Heren standing close to them. “The other ashmaker decided that bleeding out wasn’t enough, so he lit his hand on fire and gripped what was left from my arm until my throat was too raw to make any more screams.”

Moosha stepped next to Heren. “Lao, you would’ve died if the wound hadn’t been closed in time,” the bender pointed gently. It sounded like they had already had this conversation.

Laohun glared at him. “Death would be too merciful for their standards. They preferred to look at my agony and fucking admire their work when I was delirious from pain.”

Heren grabbed Laohun’s hurt hand and lowered it. Her eyes were glassy as she looked at the man. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered. “But I don’t think _Lee_ needs to hear this.”

The man glared at Zuko. “I think the half-breed does, if he’s fucking fine with drinking tea from ashmakers’ general cup,” he snarled. “I don’t know how stupid you are, boy, to believe that this accident that made your face look like a crackling – “

“My face wasn’t an accident.”

“ _What?!_ ” asked the old man with a frown. “ _Huh_ , maybe since you are an ash-lover you will tell me you don’t mind having your face melted off!? Did they offer you a fucking tea afterward?!”

“Father!” snapped Heren. “Enough.”

Zuko wanted to slap himself for saying that – it wasn’t a _Lee-like_ answer _. Lee_ couldn’t say that his face was a deserved punishment, a mark of a coward, a reminder… _He hadn’t got a fucking tea afterward, his throat had been too raw to swallow anything_. His anger fueled his inner flame and now he felt the warmness just underneath the skin wanted to escape.

Zuko took a slow breath and looked at the old man. “Um, nevermind… I… um, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have … stare. It was inappropriate of me.” Zuko bowed slightly. “I won’t do that again.”

Laohun looked at Zuko – _at Zuko’s scar_ – with a frown. This time Zuko didn’t look away.

“That’s enough,” repeated Heren. “We are close let’s go.” Heren looked at the old man. “And you could learn the art of apology, _Father_. You’ve been nothing but an asshole towards Lee and he still can apologize. You owe him a couple of those.”

The old man muttered something under his breath and stomped forward.

“You okay?” asked Heren, looking at Zuko with an apologetic smile.

“Umm, yeah… yes,” he mumbled, not sure why did she ask the question.

Shan jumped between Zuko and Heren and started blabbering, they continued walking as if nothing happened.

* * *

It was nice to see the horizon again, not only rocky walls of the canyon, or smooth stone walls of Fong’s base, or icy walls of the North Pole. They have left the canyon in the afternoon, later than they had planned but no one really cared. From what Zuko deducted from the map he had to turn and separate from the group on the first crossroads. Then a day or so of walking towards the first marked village. There he could try to steal some supplies or something…

His plan needed more details – he knew that. To even start thinking about fixing the _banished-traitor problem_ , he had to fix the _cripple-fugitive-staying-alive problem_. Thinking about the first one only gave him a headache and a heavy feeling in his chest, so he has been trying not to. He had an idea on the second one though…

Zuko hurried his steeps to get to Moosha – his leg didn’t like it. He jumped the last meters on his good leg using the crutch for support when his bad one refused to touch the ground this rapidly. The bender stopped walking and glared at softly panting Zuko.

“Lee,” said Moosha, he sounded already done and a loud sigh only confirmed it, “you shouldn’t even walk, I thought that _no jumping_ would be obvious.”

Zuko blushed and looked down. “Sorry. I, um I wanted to – to ask you something.”

Moosha sighed again. “Next time just call me, and I will wait. _No jumping_ ,” he emphasized.

There wouldn’t be next time, though Zuko. They should reach the crossroads in less than one hour. “Yes, Sir,” he nodded.

They resumed their walk at Moosha’s pace which was undoubtfully slower than when the bender walked alone. “So, what did you want to ask?”

The thing was that Zuko _didn’t_ want to. The bender already offered him more help than he deserved without getting anything in return…. It couldn’t end well… He was no longer a prince that could _demand_ things…

“Um… it’s not exactly a question really… I – I, um, it’s more of a request,” he mumbled, then panicked about how ungratefully it sounded. “No! Um… I’m not thinking that I can request anything from you, ugh, you… um, already gave me too much.” The raised eyebrows of the man didn’t help Zuko to make a coherent sentence. “What I’m trying to – to, um say or – or ask is… umm, it would be… more practical? Not that how it is now isn’t! I – I ugh – “

“Lee,” said Moosha calmly, a shy smile at the corner of his lips, Zuko blushed again, “just say it, ask for it, or _whatever_. Straight to the point.”

Zuko took a deep breath, his ribs shifted and gave him a slight twinge of pain. “Could you reshape the crutch into, umm… a staff?”

“A staff?”

“Yeah… The same length as the crutch just, um, you know, in a shape of a stick. _A staff_.”

Moosha shook his head. “No, I know what _a staff_ is. I mean… why? You can’t walk on this leg,” said Moosha, irritated. “Don’t make me unwrap the bandages to prove my point.”

“I know and I won’t. I will use it as a crutch it’s just… umm… it has many uses.”

“Like what?”

“Self-defense…” Zuko said, cautiously. How to say that he needed a weapon without raising suspicions of being a criminal? His dao were gone, firebending would be a death sentence, and he wasn’t in shape for hand-to-hand combat… _To any combat_. “And it won’t make me an obvious target as the crutch does…”

Moosha frowned. _“A target?”_ Zuko nodded, looking at the ground. He heard another heavy sigh. “All right… If you think you need this, then all right. Let’s stop by this tree.”

Zuko technically had a basic idea of how to fight with a staff. Not any close to the Avatar’s level of advancement but good enough to avoid hitting himself in the process. He has always favored dual swords but back in Piandao’s estate, the master has forced him to get basic skills in many weapons. He’d liked to say ‘a warrior must adapt to the circumstances’. Now, Zuko finally got what the master had in mind, and he was glad he had been bullied into practicing.

Basic knowledge didn’t change the fact that fighting required both legs.

So, well… yeah – a staff would be also a crutch.

Zuko gave Moosha the crutch and leaned over the tree for support – his good leg has started aching a while ago, overloaded by being his _only leg_ recently…

It was the first time Zuko could watch earthbending from such a close range without being afraid for his life. The stone followed Moosha’s huge hands, shaping itself in a way the bender commanded. Zuko had never before thought of earthbending as something graceful.

“Like this?” asked Moosha, handing Zuko the staff.

Zuko weighed it in his hand. It was heavier than the one he’d practiced with and a bit longer, but those features made it a better crutch. He made a couple of test-steps. The constant grip on the stick wasn’t comfortable either for his hand or his ribcage but even with the cons, Zuko preferred this to the crutch.

“Yes. Thank you, Sir,” said Zuko. He bowed, much deeper this time, to show honest gratitude, when he straightened, he saw a frown on the man’s face, quickly replaced by a polite smile.

“No problem,” he said. “But, Kid, please stay out of troubles.”

Zuko wasn’t good at it, he looked away. “Yes, Sir.”

“Come on,” said Moosha, softly pushing Zuko forward. “Get familiar with the new movement before you go your own way… Unless you’ve changed your mind, and you will stick with us for a bit longer?”

“I plan to take the turn and head east on the first crossroads,” said Zuko, praying for the bender to leave the topic.

Moosha nodded. “The road shouldn’t be too difficult, many villages and nothing more… Until then walk with me for a while and tell me how are your ribs.”

Zuko had a feeling that the medic knew his ribs didn’t like the movement - wouldn’t admit it. No need to give him satisfaction and another argument.

“Okay,” said Zuko.

* * *

Using the staff had the disadvantage Zuko hadn’t think of – it required using back muscles much more than with the crutch. One of the wounds had probably opened but it wasn’t hurting too much, so it couldn’t be too bad. Besides the soreness was a good distraction from thinking so he shouldn’t complain.

By the time they reached the crossroads, he had got used to it.

The group stopped and everyone – including the old man – looked at Zuko.

“Any chance you’ve changed your mind?” asked Heren, looking at him sadly. Zuko shook his head without meeting her gaze. The woman came closer to him, Zuko hasn’t tensed when she put her hand on his good shoulder. “You are more stubborn than my father,” she whispered. Zuko glared at her, and she giggled. “Take care,” she continued in a louder tone, “and remember that there is some kindness left in the world, and you deserve it as well. Do not forget that.”

Before Zuko could even think of something to say, the woman embraced him without a warning, even though her touch stayed delicate, he’d involuntary flinched and tensed. This time she held him until he started breathing again.

Shan jumped from behind Heren’s back. “You were mean when you were half-dead but after all you turned out to be pretty okay,” he said, cheerfully smiling at Zuko. He didn’t know how to respond to that, he might’ve flushed a bit. “ _Aww!_ I know I’m amazing at compliments! I told you Heren!” The woman rolled her eyes. “But I have to be honest here, Lee, your charisma couldn’t have been repaired in such a short time… I’m not a magician but don’t worry you had some potential… Just stop acting like every conversation is, um, I don’t know… _an interrogation_? And it will be good!” Zuko cracked a barely visible smile at the paradox of the advice. “Ha! I’m hilarious! You saw that Moosha?! He smiled, which means _I’m hilarious_!” he exclaimed proudly.

“Keep telling yourself that,” sighed Moosha, hiding his own cracked smile.

Shan again turned to Zuko. “Take care, man,” he carefully patted his good shoulder. “If you ever decide to roll from somewhere make sure we are around.”

Zuko had to swallow a chuckle – _what was wrong with this guy?_ “Okay,” he said, keeping his face straight, feeling a weird heavy feeling inside of his stomach.

Moosha gave him a small bundle. “Take it, those are the herbs Heren promised you and something for dinner – “

“I – “

“No refuses,” said Moosha. “Those are doctor’s orders, boy.” He placed the bundle in Zuko’s sling. “Take care and stay away from troubles.”

“I – I… thank you. For everything. And um… If I get a chance to pay you back somehow, I swear I will.” It wasn’t an improvisation based on questionable emotions of the moment, Zuko had decided to do whatever he can to pay this debt a while ago. “I promise, you have my word. So… um, thank you for… saving my life… yeah, um and – and… yes. Thank you.”

After this questionable quality little speech, Zuko bowed separately to each person from the family, even to the damned Laohun, though a bow towards him wasn’t as deep as the rest. The family gave him confused looks and tensed smiles.

“I’m sorry for the trouble… and goodbye,” said Zuko.

“Farewell, my comrade!” Shan waved and gave him an overexaggerated bow with a weird hand gesture.

Zuko turned away before they could say or do anything else and give him more doubts. He walked into the unknown land with a heavy feeling in his chest, with his back turned to the people he could no longer name ‘enemies’ without questioning himself.

* * *

They watched the limping figure in silence. Heren briefly looked at her father and either the old man got a facial paralysis, or he no longer bothered himself with looking at Lee with his most hateful glare. Heren had to wipe tears from her cheek – damn being not emotional when the kid cannot take a hug even when he's not panicked.

The beginning of their march without the teenager was weirdly quiet – no Shan’s mumbling, no Moosha’s medical tone, no Lao’s growling. _Weird_. Just as the boy…

Heren clung to Moosha’s arm, thinking about Lee. The battered teenager that couldn’t react to simple kindness, who sometimes talked like a babbling toddler then immediately switched into formal, almost noble-like tone, who was well-mannered yet hot-tempered in some cases, the teen that often bowed like a servant yet ate with manners and straighten back of a higher class.

A boy with mysterious reasons, who refused their help and went into the world alone. Heren had to swallow tears, only Moosha’s hold stopping her from sobbing. This all only proven her point about why having children in this broken world was a crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone says goodbye :'( 
> 
> All thoughts on members of the family welcomed I would gladly read them in the comments.
> 
> From me --> I gave some time in this chapter to Lao. The old racist is a prick but he has a whole mountain of bottled trauma - I tried to add some depth, maybe even understanding into his character with this little backstory. I've got a whole TED Talk about him really but that's not the place for it (unless someone wants to play psychologist in the comments 😅)
> 
> So Zuko Alone once again. I know some of you hoped he would stick with the family... Sorry not this time. Someone wants to rant him for this? Comments are all yours.
> 
> Seriously you probably are sick of my baiting you into commenting but I really like reading them so sorry, not sorry.
> 
> ps. comment


	9. Chapter 9

Zuko has miscalculated the amount of time he needed to reach the closest village. It was bad. The night has already settled in somewhere about an hour ago, a cold breeze made him shiver, thin, ragged clothes doing nothing to keep him warm. Zuko had to regulate his temperature with his bending. He missed the warmth of the campfire that had been ignited every night by the canyon family. Lighting the fire by himself wouldn’t be hard, he felt his inner flame was doing much better, not fighting-level but good enough for such a simple action.

Although, Zuko was too afraid to do it. He curled on himself next to a big boulder surrounded by bushes that should hide him from eventual passers-by and tried to get some sleep.

_Tried._

In the morning Zuko could feel the bags under his eyes forming. The teas Heren had been drugging him with before sleep really worked. This first fully sober night had been rough – the pain had woken him every time he had moved, nightmares he couldn’t exactly remember had left him panting a few times, and the feeling of being watched hasn’t helped either. Zuko didn’t want to form an addiction but he couldn’t wait for the moment he would finally brew the herbs Heren had given him.

He unwrapped the bundle and carefully selected necessary herbs, then throw everything onto the ground, punched the damn rock, and cursed afterward when his knuckles started bleeding.

He hasn’t asked Moosha for craving a fucking cup.

Getting water wasn’t a problem, he’d passed several water sources, but he hadn’t got a damn cup to prepare the mixture.

“Fuck,” hissed Zuko, clenching his bleeding hand, cursing himself for punching a damn rock. Nearby two birds were looking at him with tilted heads, Zuko seriously considered setting them on fire. “Stop staring!” he growled, and then died inside of embarrassment.

Zuko took a deep breath, it was way less pleasant without painkillers in his system. He had to survive through the day without it, he has gotten used to not-feeling spikes with every breath. He could do it, he didn’t need the medicine in the first place, he wasn’t _weak._

* * *

He had reached the village past noon. Zuko hasn’t expected this many stares but it only showed how good his ability to think things through was… _How many limping newcomers crossed this village?_ Apparently not much… He was an attraction, even if he tried to stick to less crowded places people keep whispering and staring in his direction.

Change of plans… Bigger towns no longer sounded so bad…

Zuko tried to look around without looking too suspicious. At least no one seemed to take a teenage cripple as a threat. Heren was right – stealing anything wasn’t an option. Every stand was in the open view, so he couldn’t sneak up and do it the quiet way, take-and-run was off-limits as well…

 _Agni_... he was hungry, and tired, and he really missed the blessing of painkillers. The world sometimes swayed a little in his eyes, its edges blended more than in his bad eye but after few blinks, everything tended to come back to normal. Zuko had a small roll in the bundle but he couldn’t eat it now when the prospect of finding something else was so low. The gift was his last resort, not a weak way of relieving the first signs of hunger.

While circling around the village all he’d received were pitying stares that made his inner flame twist in his gut. It has made him angry and it hasn’t made his stomach full. One mother had protectively grabbed her child when the little boy asked why were Zuko using a stick, Zuko hadn’t heard the answer but the way the mother grabbed the child had told enough. They were suspicious of him, not to the point to raise any alarm but enough that no one dared to approach him.

Zuko’s vision swayed again, this time only remains of his agility saved him from stumbling, he had to use his bad leg for support though. He leaned over the closest building and groaned through clenched teeth when he felt like his thigh was being ripped apart. He started to feel lightheaded like he was just a couple of steps from collapsing.

He sat down on some low stairs, his good shoulder leaning over some pillar, eyes closed, forehead placed on his knee. This way the world couldn’t sway, his legs couldn’t stumble. He was gripping his staff to the point his knuckles hurt but in this state of vulnerability, it was his anchor, the illusion of controlling the situation. A minute or two and he would be fine again… He had to wait through the harsher moment, and he would be completely fine to continue his wander… a wander without any destination. He had to keep moving, and worrying later, he would finally come up with _something_ … right?

“Excuse me,” said a female voice from behind his back. “Umm… you can’t really sit here. Better move before my boss comes. He’s a strict man.”

Zuko didn’t want to move his head but did it anyway. He had chosen a porch of… a shop… a pottery shop for his resting place. _Of course, he had_. A girl looking at him from the doorstep had to be around his age, dark brown hair tied into a low ponytail, her arms crossed as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them. Her expression changed when they met their eyes for a second before Zuko looked away.

 _“Oh…”_ she made a _weird_ sound and take a step closer. “You are not from here. Are you all right?”

“I’m just passing by. I’m fine. I – I will move… just give me a second,” said Zuko.

He was sure he didn’t want to meet this ‘strict man’, but he wasn’t eager to stand up yet… The girl hasn’t moved, staring at him with a strange expression Zuko couldn’t name. _Agni damn_ _his reading-people skills._ The stare had to mean that the girl didn’t want to give him extra minutes of peace, so Zuko grabbed his staff to elevate himself.

The girl suddenly appeared inches from him, helping him up. “Oh spirits! You are hurt! I’m so sorry… I feel terrible but you really can’t stay here…” Zuko was too stunned to react, he was standing with the girl squeezing his elbow, trying to support his weight. “Let me help you… Look you can sit over there.” She pointed at the shadowed spot near the shop backdoor, surrounded by trees, really close to the forest. It was definitely a better place to rest.

When the shock passed Zuko slipped from the girl’s grip. “I’m fine… Just tired…um, I will go I don’t want any trouble.”

The girl was looking at him with wide eyes, but she didn’t try to grab him again. “I’m so sorry… But my boss hates it when someone doesn’t buy, and we aren’t doing well lately, and –“

“It’s fine,” assured her Zuko. “I will just go.”

Zuko had to clench his teeth when he took the first couple of steps. The girl wasn’t finished yet, she appeared on his left. “Is there any way I can help you? I mean… I don’t have much, but my shift will end in an hour. Maybe I can invite you for a dinner? I feel terrible… I’m so sorry. My mother won’t mind a guest…”

Zuko’s stomach growled at that, he hoped the girl couldn’t hear it. “No thank you. I – I’m just passing by. I – I will just rest for a minute and I’m heading off.”

The girl accompanied him to the spot she pointed earlier. Zuko could feel her stare watching every one of his steps. He sat under the tree, and the girl stared at him with the same strange expression and crossed arms. “You sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”

“No, thank you for warning me before, um… your boss. I’m fine,” said Zuko. The girl nodded but didn’t look convinced. She looked at the shop over her arm when Zuko finally noticed the opportunity. “Oh! Um, no, emm… actually – “

“Yes?”

“Umm… Could you get me, um… a cup of hot water?”

“Sure but… don’t you prefer a whole tea?” she chuckled.

“No, I, um, I’ve got a medicine but, well, I don’t have anything to brew it,” mumbled Zuko, ashamed. “So, if it wouldn’t be a problem just a cup of water, please.”

The girl smiled at him. “Sure, no problem at all. I’ve got plenty of cups in the shop just wait here. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, running back to the shop.

Zuko hoped that drinking the medicine on an empty stomach wouldn’t end in puking. He wanted to save the roll for later. When the painkiller kicks in, he would be fine… Dealing with pain and hunger at the same time was, well… _problematic_.

Sitting with closed eyes, without the world spinning around him was pleasant, soft noises of the forest muffling his thoughts. Zuko wished he could freeze himself at this moment…

“Here,” said the girl. She was standing in front of him with a steaming cup in her one hand and a bag of nuts in the other. “I thought you shouldn’t take your medicine on empty stomach.”

“Thank you,” said Zuko, accepting both things.

“I’m Song,” she smiled.

“Lee.”

“I have to come back to the shop. I’ll come for the cup after my shift, I just borrowed it from an exposition. The offer of dinner is still available if you change your mind! _Oh_ … I hope it didn’t cool down, did it?” she asked, concerned.

In fact, it did cool down. “It’s fine.”

Song’s face lightened. “Oh, what a relief… I forgot about it when I was looking for nuts.” She looked over her shoulder at the shop and the couple approaching it. “I have to go! One hour and I’m back! Bye Lee!”

Zuko frowned. _Again…_ he didn’t understand a damn thing. Why people in the Earth Kingdom were so hard to _understand?_ He placed the cup in his both palms and carefully heated it to the right temperature with Uncle’s little trick, placed the herbs inside, and ate nuts in the time the mixture was brewing. The girl, Song, just like that offered him help in return for what? Of Zuko sitting in the place, he wasn’t supposed to, endangering Song for her boss’s anger. This hasn't got any sense.

Zuko recalled Heren’s words… about kindness in the world… that he deserved it as well. Zuko didn’t believe in the second part but the first seemed to be true. For the last three years, he barely deserved anything after his constant failures. Without his honor, he deserved nothing – no father’s approval, no return to home, not his title. _Nothing._ He was _a Lee_ – a nobody, a refugee, someone who maybe deserved kindness. Zuko has never been obligated to follow the same rules as the others. He was a prince, so he had to fit the right requirements – _even though he had never managed to do it_ – whatever the Fire Lord assented as proper… _as perfect_.

Azula has never had a problem with that.

 _Fuck_. His mind again drifted to that damn self-pitying hole… He had to stop doing that. Zuko drank the whole liquid and waited for the moment what the medication starts working. He clenched the cup in his fingers, tracing his fingertips over the smooth edges and convex paintings on its side.

The medication finally kicked in and Zuko felt like someone lift the pile of rocks from his chest and limbs, he gripped his cane and stood up before the girl’s shift would end. He had to find a bigger town not to attract any more attention.

Zuko has taken the cup with him – he still has herbs for a few doses.

Maybe Song would learn a harsh lesson of living – not all people should be given kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ostrich horse became a cup...  
> I changed Song's profession because I think it would be repetitive to meet another "medic" on his way. The girl basically didn't have to be Song from the series but after one of the comments, I decided fuck it. I will heave my Song my own way.
> 
> Now I really have a feeling this one might've been boring it's just Zuko doing pretty bad... My week was busy so let it be just a filler. I've got more in mind for the next one and it might reach 4k again soo... yeah...at least I hope it will be bigger 🤨
> 
> As always I would love to read some comments!! 
> 
> So well YES. Forgive me for a filler (but seeing EK is important for Zuko's arc soo idk). I hope to begin the faster ride from the next one. Stay with me!(please)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so firstly I want to say that Zuko's dramatic tendencies are contagious and I hadn't realized the amount of drama connected to stealing the cup 🤣  
> I still like how it turned out though

Zuko had eaten his last-resort-roll a day after he’d stolen the cup, since then he has been eating only fruits, not all he’d spotted on his way through. Heren’s instructions about differing the toxic ones from eatable ones were fresh in his memory and Zuko couldn’t afford a poisoning – he had already enough troubles to deal with. In conclusion, he has been constantly hungry for several days. At least drinking the painkillers was helping, just as Moosha had advised Zuko has been slowly reducing doses – enough to be able to walk all day but not to form an addiction. Moosha had talked a lot about _not_ forming an addiction, so Zuko guessed it was rather important.

Finally, he reached a town filled with merchants.

Zuko was slowly walking to the main marketplace, avoiding main roads and pushy traders. The chance of getting some actual food increased, he’d already considered stealing something from some stall or looking for left-overs from the inns. _You already think like a peasant Zuzu_ , the voice of Azula echoed in his mind but he was too hungry to care, many scents coming from every direction weren’t helping either.

In the narrow passage between two buildings, Zuko spotted a hat laying on the ground. The town was full of many different people, but he preferred not to tempt his _luck_ and get accused of being Fire Nation, half-breed or in the worst case actually _recognized_. With minor difficulties, he picked up the hat and tied its ribbon under his chin. It was ugly and worn-out, so it perfectly matched his current look.

The marketplace was crowded, and no one cared about Zuko sitting under the stone wall surrounding the whole area. He bent his bad leg so the random passer-by wouldn’t trip over him, he doubted even the painkillers would muffle the pain. With every day he could bend his leg further, but it still was too sensitive to walk. Zuko placed his staff in a way that if any eventual clumsy peasant would walk into him, he would trip over the cane firstly – he preferred not to test his luck.

The inn the back of the market looked promising, its storage was hidden from the view so when it gets darker Zuko could try to sneak there. For now, all he could do was trying to ignore his aching stomach and observing the passing citizens. There were plenty of old people rushing from stall to stall, a good deal of merchants who were throwing hateful glares on other merchants, some women with children, and definitely fewer men.

A coin clattered near Zuko’s legs, ripping him from his thoughts, he looked up. A merchant in noticeably expensive clothes was poking in his pocket, looking at the older man standing next to him. “I had some more coppers, they are too heavy in my pockets,” the merchant chuckled. He threw two more coins at Zuko without sparing him a single look. “I do not favor loafers, it’s the last time. Make yourself useful and earn your living, boy.

The other man looked at Zuko, then at the merchant, and nodded eagerly. Zuko was too stunned by the whole situation to react. He picked up the coins, examining them in his hand, the sum wasn’t big but enough for a small meal.

They had taken him for a beggar.

Zuko’s inner flame boiled the blood inside his veins. He wanted to go after the man, throw the coins in his face, pin him to the wall, and ask how dared he mistook _a prince_ for _a beggar_.

He hasn’t done any of it.

Zuko swallowed his wounded pride and placed the stack of coins next to him – he hasn’t fallen low enough to accept alms. He will not beg to stay alive, he would’ve died of the humiliation of an act. He wasn’t _that_ hungry.

“You aren’t from here,” said a young voice. Zuko looked up and saw a kid, no older than ten, scowling at him. The boy had a dirty bandage over his eye, a torn shirt, and only one shoe. “So, you could not know the rules.”

Zuko frowned. “The rules?”

“This territory is ours,” said the kid.

“…Ours?”

The kid nodded his head to the right, Zuko’s gaze followed. Three little heads were visible from around the corner of the near building, looking directly at Zuko. _Was the group of kids trying to intimidate him?_ Zuko glanced back at the boy who looked really proud of himself.

The boy pointed at his scar. “Is that real?”

 _“What?!”_ snapped Zuko.

“The scar, the sling, the… um,” the boy eyed Zuko’s staff, “the cane? You really need those? ” the boy raised his eyebrow.

“Why else would I have it?” growled Zuko. The number of kids eyeing him from near corners increased to five.

“It’s useful,” said the kid, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course, it is! That’s why I have it…” Zuko was really irritated by the whole conversation, then something in his mind clicked. He pointed at the boy’s head. “Is yours real?”

The boy smirked at him. “That depends who’s asking… If this loaded guy that gave you the money then _yes_ and,” the kid’s expression changed into a wince, “ _I’m in great pain_. If you are asking then…” the kid lowered his voice to a whisper, looked around, and then lifted the bandages from his face – it was untouched.

Zuko has been fooled, he’d felt a spark for compassion when he’d seen the kid’s head… that was exactly what the kid counted on.

“You are an impostor,” said Zuko, he wouldn’t let a ten-year-old intimidate him.

“That’s part of the job,” shrugged the kid.

“Part of _begging_?”

The kid crossed his arms and glared at Zuko. “Maybe you are a beggar, we are not. Our profession _is scrounging_ ,” he finished proudly, emphasizing the word as if it was an actual profession. “About that… we can let you stay for today, but you have to share with us half of what you get.”

A ten-year-old was indeed trying to intimidate him.

Zuko took a calming breath. “I’m not here to _beg_ ,” he said, the kid looked unconvinced. Zuko picked up the stack of coins and handed it to the kid, who instantly accepted it, eyeing Zuko dumbfounded. “Take it. I would leave it here anyway.”

The kid eyed him from head to toe, which was bluntly rude. “You don’t look like you have any money.”

“That’s none of your business, kid. Go away I’m not going to take over your _territory_ or whatever…”

“You are weird.”

“Are you done?” growled Zuko, he couldn’t lose his temper with some mouthy brat… it would definitely attract attention.

“No.”

“…No?” questioned Zuko, putting on his best glare.

 _Seriously?!_ He’d thought that his entire appearance would be enough to scare off children, not to mention he was much older than this brat… Shouldn’t he be at least cowed by Zuko? Not every child worked like Azula, _right?_

“If you plan just sit here, doing nothing… then I will join you,” said the kid, and sat next to Zuko. “I will do my job and you keep doing your…um, whatever you are doing.”

Zuko glared at the boy. “You are annoying, you know that?” The kid shrugged. “Whatever… Just stop talking.”

The boy in fact stopped. Zuko managed to relax a bit, knowing that being around a kid who was apparently from around this place – _boy’s territory_ – could help him to blend in. The coins clattering on the ground from time to time were putting him on edge though… The kid was using Zuko to help in his little fraud. After a long time without any new coins, the kid leaned over Zuko.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he hissed.

“Shut up! And continue your brooding,” the kid hissed back.

Zuko was really close to strangling the brat when a larger group of adults approached them, he lowered his head hiding his face under the hat. The kid leaned his head on Zuko’s good thigh in a way the bandage over his eye was well visible for the merchants. Zuko saw tears streaming down his uncovered cheek, quiet whimpers escaping his lips… _It was so convincing_.

“Here,” She placed a sizeable number of coins next to the kid’s trembling form, “take care of your little brother,” she said to Zuko.

Zuko didn’t raise his head, well aware of the lack of his acting skills, the kid hadn’t got the same problem. “Th – thank… you,” he sniffed and swiped the tear.

The woman made a concerned sound and walked away.

When the group was no longer visible on the market the kid sat straight again. “She likes the drama,” he explained putting coins in his pocket.

Zuko had no words for this boy, he wouldn’t even ask why he knew what the women liked.

The inn Zuko had spotted earlier was really crowded for the entire day, so Zuko had to wait for the night to try to steal something from its pantry. He should be able to do some lockpicking, this couldn’t be too hard. He would really prefer not to run… though he’d already mapped a good escape road. He would take as much as his sling-pocket would allow, he hoped it would be enough to get into another town… _And what then?_

“Don’t do that,” said the kid.

“ _What?!_ I’m not doing anything,” growled Zuko.

“You are eyeing this place for an entire day… You want to steal from them.” The kid wasn’t even asking… _Insolent little shit_. “So, you like stealing but not begging?”

Zuko scowled at the kid, raising his eyebrow. “I thought it’s ‘ _scrounging’_ ,” he said, putting every bit of sarcasm he had into this one word.

The kid blushed a little. _“Whatever…”_ he muttered, playing with coins in his pocket. After a moment he added, “I’m serious. Don’t steal from them.”

“Why?” asked Zuko, something in the kid’s tone had made Zuko really uneasy.

The boy hugged his knees to his chest, this way he looked even smaller than he actually was. “We once tried, and they caught Reneh… He was seven then and the owner almost convinced the guards to whip him like he was an adult,” the kid said, quietly.

“… What?” dumbfounded Zuko. “What happened to him?”

“They struck him in the hands with a wooden stick a couple of times… The owner did it… Reheh had three broken fingers.” The kid looked Zuko in the face with all seriousness a ten-year-old could muster. “They would whip you.”

Zuko tensed on the second mention of whipping, the healing wounds on his back suddenly too sensitive, his memories of pain and helplessness too fresh. _It’s been less than two weeks ago…_

“I’m not planning on doing that,” lied Zuko, the kid didn’t look convinced. “And if I would… I wouldn’t get caught,” he said, trying – _and failing_ – to ease the concerns of the upset child.

“Said a guy with two messed up limbs…”

 _What a boorish little brat…_ but he had a point though.

For the next hour kid wasn’t playing any new dramatic performances, but the coins keep coming. When the marketplace became less crowded the other child run to them and dropped a small bundle. The boy unpacked some food and handed the bag to Zuko.

“You want some?” he asked.

Zuko’s stomach rumbled and he hoped the boy couldn’t hear this. He looked at the boy with a frown. “You want to share your food with me?”

“Yup,” nodded the kid. “You hadn’t eaten all day, and thanks to you I gathered more than usual.” The kid narrowed his eyes and take an offered item closer to his chest. “Unless changed your mind and you wanna your share.”

“I don’t, keep the money.” Zuko could buy a few good meals for his share but _he wouldn’t live from alms_. “You feed your group for it?” The boy nodded. “How many of you are there.”

The kid had to think about it for a second, helping himself in counting using his fingers. “Thirteen. I’m the oldest,” he said, proudly. _The oldest…_ “Take it and don’t try to steal from that place.”

Zuko accepted the food. “I’ve never said I’m going to.”

The kid snorted and stuffed his mouth with a fruit. Zuko did the same, trying not to think why a ten-year-old was apparently the boss of a _scrounging kids_ gang.

After the sun his behind the horizon the marketplace became almost completely empty, the lights in the inn were shimmering even though it has been closed a while ago. Zuko was almost sure that the boy had taken a quick nap a couple of minutes ago, now though he was clumsily standing up.

“You can come tomorrow too if you want,” proposed the boy.

Zuko clenched his teeth and stood up as well. “I won’t be here tomorrow but thanks for the offer.”

The boy glanced at his leg and cane. “You are odd.”

“You already told me that,” growled Zuko, without any real anger. “Go back to your gang.”

“Yeah…” the boy blushed a bit. “Don’t steal from them,” he said and run away before Zuko could say anything. He took the first turn and disappeared into the maze of buildings.

After the entire day of his company, Zuko wasn’t as irritated as he’d thought he would be. He glanced at the inn, sighed, and turned toward the edge of the town. He was still hungry, but the danger of whipping successfully discouraged him. After resting for a whole day, he could travel for at least half of the night. _Where? Still no idea._

* * *

When Zuko reached the next town, he was hungry enough to accept some leftovers offered by an old shopkeeper without making any fuss. The old man had spotted him behind his shop when he was leaning over the wall to catch some breath. The night has been sleepless and Zuko could barely keep himself upright.

The small village has a broken barn, Zuko spotted a man giving money to two boys that have been helping to repair it. He slept in the forest nearby, hid the staff and the sling, that now was serving him more as a bag really, and walked to the man in the morning. He hasn’t managed to hide limping or persuade the man that he could still do the job. He’s been rejected and threw off the estate. This day he drank the rest of his painkillers – _a full dose_.

The elderly woman felt sorry for Zuko once she saw him, she gave him a pitying look and some coins – Zuko took it all without a demur. He _was_ hungry enough to accept alms.

* * *

For the last week, Zuko’s thoughts circled only around food, it was degrading that he has been willing to sacrifice more and more of his dignity for pathetic scraps. When all he could feel was hunger, he hasn’t been thinking about _how to make things right_. Times when this realization went past the veil of malnutrition and pain, Zuko’s mind wandered into awfully dark places.

The town he’d reached this morning was strange – when the other towns and villages had been filled with merchants and their stalls, this one has only a few shops and most inhabitants were farmers. This equaled no chance of finding a job – no one wanted to order anything to a cripple. Maybe Zuko could steal something from the field in the night? Yeah, it sounded promising.

For now, he sat under the window of some shop in a nicely hidden spot. Zuko got used to the fact that nobody paid him any special attention or think of him as a possible danger. Even without the hat he’d lost a few days ago, he could keep his identity hidden, being seen as one of many beggars.

Zuko tried some meditation with the debatable outcome – his inner flame’s condition weakened, again, but this time by the lack of food. Nonetheless, he tried to calm it a bit, being unable to freely firebend wasn’t helping… just as the loud, harsh voice coming from the open window above his head.

“ – this spirits forsaken hole has more educated rocks than people! Tell me, Soyo, can you read?” the man asked growling.

“Only a few words, Sir,” answered a woman, her tone filled with shame.

“Write?”

“No, Sir.”

“That’s what I’m talking about! A hole of fucking dunderheads!” exclaimed the man. “My hands are trembling when I try to… It’s the fault of all those stupid assholes that have been pissing me off my entire life! You know what, Soyo?”

“I don’t, Mr. Xaalo.”

“I would pay double for someone with at least half of the brain and ability to scribe a few stupid lines – “

Zuko stood up before he could overthink this, in the next minute he was standing in the shop’s doorway facing an aged man and young woman. They both were staring at him, the man frowning with disgust, the woman’s mouth parted in surprise.

“Um… how can I help you, young man?” she asked, politely.

Before Zuko could say anything, the man snorted. “Are you blind my dear? To call this ragamuffin _‘young man’_. This is a respectable shop you won’t be begging – “ the man stopped talking when his eyes finally stopped examining Zuko’s clothes and landed on his face. The man’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh! Get yourself a mask! This thing is disgusting!”

Zuko felt the blush appearing on his good cheek, he turned his head so the man wouldn’t see the scar anymore. This has hurt more than he would like to admit.

“Mr. Xaalo! That’s inappropriate – “ the woman raised her voice a bit.

“ _Inappropriate?_ ” the man laughed. “ _Inappropriate_ is forcing people to look at something this ugly!”

Zuko glanced at the woman, her lips were squeezed into a thin line, her eyes apologetic _. It was a bad idea… What was he thinking…? It couldn’t end well…_

“Why did you come to the florist shop?” she asked, uncertainly.

Zuko looked at the walls decorated with various flowers, then continued staring at the floor.

“I – I’ve heard… that – that um,” Zuko wasn’t sure how to address the man without making everything worse, this guy without a doubt was someone wealthy, “um… that you Sir,” Zuko glanced at the man for a second not to be accused of being impolite, “need someone who can write.”

The man raised his brow. “So what?” 

“I can.”

The man burst out laughing and it took him a long moment to control himself. “This one was good… But now, get the hell out of here and stop wasting my time!”

Zuko averted his face, so the man couldn’t see the scared side and looked at the man instead of the floor. “I’m serious. I can write,” he insisted.

“And I’m the Avatar,” deadpanned the man. Zuko clenched his teeth and said nothing. The man chuckled. “ _Fine_. I see spirits really like messing with me… _Fine_ , at least I won’t be bored… Here’s what’s going to happen, Scarface. If you lied to me, I will turn you to the guards and accuse you of bothering me, and they won’t question anything I say… If you are ready to risk it, I will let you… Do you even understand what I’m saying? Not too complicated, brat?”

Zuko barely stopped himself from breathing the steam from his nostrils. “I do,” he growled.

“You keep surprising me,” said the man. “Go to the west edge of the town and wait in front of my estate, the white building next to the stream. If you try to put your feet on my ground before I will come back, I will break your other leg. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Now, get out of my sight!”

Before Zuko left he turned to the woman behind the desk. “I’m sorry for bothering,” he said and bowed slightly.

“You weren’t a bother, young man. Take care,” she smiled.

Zuko left the shop without turning back.

He was deeply convinced that this whole thing would end terribly but he was too exhausted to care… He sat a safe distance from the estate, just next to the stream, and waited.

This couldn’t end much worse than it was right now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used some of the insults I asked for a couple of chapters ago 😈 I'm keeping all of them in a safe place (thanks again for it!)
> 
> Zuko's awkwardness is turned off when he's interacting with a kid - it just happened but I think it's funny how he isn't awkward when he didn't want to make a conversation in the first place.
> 
> Not many of you liked Laohun aka The Old Racist... any thoughts about this sweet wealthy man? I would love to read all your opinions!! (I asked for the insults keeping him in mind!)
> 
> Ok, I think that's it :D Does it counts as a cliffhanger 🤔 You can tell me... COMMENT I love all of them!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get used to that fast updates, all the blame on my armchair.
> 
> Enjoy :)))

The man didn’t fit Zuko’s image of an earthbender – the soldiers he’d seen in Fong’s base, Colonel Huong, even Moosha… they were all huge – the man was taller than Zuko, but he didn’t look as he was made of rocks. He hoped it wasn’t a false assumption, he wouldn’t stand a chance against an earthbender.

Zuko glanced at the white house behind his back that only confirmed the man’s wealth, besides, he had the attitude of a noble, it was hard to miss the way he’d spoken to the woman in the shop. It fit the picture that the man needed a scribe, nobles often had a lot of paperwork to do, they weren’t troubling themselves with physical work, they had people doing it for them. Even with Zuko’s terrible luck, this shouldn’t turn into a disaster – he could write. His tutors had many times scolded him for his wobbly characters, but after spending some time with Master Piandao, they had finally approved his writing skills as _sufficient_ for a prince.

It was late afternoon and the man still hasn’t come back. Zuko has been drawing random shapes in the sand using a stick he’d picked up an hour ago. He rested his chin on his knee, trying to stay awake, his head hurt too much either from hunger or exhaustion… probably both. He couldn’t focus his thoughts on anything even when he tried, it was just a constant buzz and pressure in his temples. Zuko gave up on observing the road, rested his forehead between his knees, and tried to find some peace with closed eyes.

_He was so exhausted…_

“Get up, boy!” Zuko was almost dozing off when the loud voice made him jump. “I’m not going to wait any longer!”

Zuko climbed to his feet using the staff to keep stability, first steps after not-moving were always the hardest. He limped to the man and stopped a safe distance in front of him.

“Not too young to be an inept cripple?” asked the man.

Zuko averted his face, so the scarred side was hidden from the man. The feeling of people looking at him and judging was familiar – he hasn’t missed it.

“Not talkative I see…” said the man, staring at Zuko. He didn’t look up, afraid to meet man’s eyes with his golden ones. Was this man’s opinion on fire-blood the same as Laohun’s? This time Zuko had no one who would stand in his defense, only his poor lying skills. “After me,” ordered the man and moved towards the house.

The noble turned to check if Zuko has followed him after he climbed the small stairs leading to a house’s veranda. Zuko struggled to keep with the man’s pace, he had just approached the stairs and started the agony of walking up. His leg was doing better these days, but he had barely any strength to move.

“Come on, Weakling! You want the job or not?” barked the man. Zuko climbed the last step and turned his face away from the noble. “The last chance to admit that you cannot write.”

Anger boiled inside Zuko’s chest. “I’m utterly certain I can write, _Sir_ ,” said Zuko through the clenched teeth, it was the tone he’d often used with Uncle when he was in his _tea-and-proverbs-nephew-are-you-sure_ mode.

The man raised his eyebrows. “Oh… Who would’ve thought he’s high-and-mighty?”

“I’m not,” retorted Zuko, his body tensed. “I’ve said it simply enough times, maybe this way you will understand… _Sir_ ,” he added after a pause, anger, and exhaustion made his word-choice less careful.

“Not _talkative_ but likes to talk-back…” The man crossed his arms eyeing him. Zuko wasn’t the best at judging people’s reactions but the man looked… _amused?_ “ _Interesting_.” Zuko felt shivers climbing up his spine. “Inside, Brat!”

The man – _what was this guy’s name?_ – opened the door and entered the house, Zuko cautiously followed. _This couldn’t end worse than it was now_ , he kept repeating himself. Zuko awkwardly stood in a small hallway, when the man behind his back was closing the door. He couldn’t fight the feeling of being trapped.

The noble sized him once again and pointed at his staff. “You won’t be scratching my floorboards with that… _thing_ of yours. Leave it here.”

Zuko wanted to protest, snap at the man, and get the hell out of here… instead, he took a deep breath and put his staff in the corner, just next to the door.

“Don’t touch anything and don’t think about stealing,” growled the man, he was looking at Zuko expecting an answer.

“Yes, Sir,” said Zuko through clenched teeth, not looking directly at the man.

The man leaded Zuko through the house’s living room painted with plain bronzes, equipped with dark wooden furniture. Zuko didn’t take a closer look at the surroundings, he was focused on not stumbling, he got used to having a cane to support his steps. The nobble finally walked through the wooden door to the small room with many bookshelves and a desk in the middle.

The noble pointed at the desk. “Your workplace, brat.”

Zuko looked between the man and the desk, expecting it to be a trick. “May I _touch_ it?”

The man snickered and covered his mouth with his hand. “Yes, Twerp, you may… of course only if you know how to use it.”

Fortunately, there were none lit candles in the room, Zuko was sure if there were, they all would flicker at this moment. He limped to the desk and sat on the chair. _Oh Agni…_ it was hard to hide how much relief it brought. _When was the last time he sat on an actual chair?_

The man stood in front of the desk with crossed arms in a flippant manner that made Zuko’s inner flame rise and fall uncontrollably. “Writing implements are in the second drawer. Take them.”

Zuko found what he needed and placed it on the desk. He took a closer look at the brush – it had a decorative graver on its side and gold name craved at the top. _Xaalo._ At least now he knew the man’s name… or surname? Nobles in the Earth Kingdom were using it, right? Now, when he saw it, he could recall that the woman in the shop had called the man _Mr. Xaalo_.

He took off the sling (and the cup that was hidden inside) and placed it on the ground, then looked at the man expectantly, his face turned to the side, so the scar was less visible.

“Now what’s going to happen,” said the man. “I’m going to eat dinner,” Zuko clenched his fist under the table, his stomach grumbled, “with the guards' captain,” Zuko stopped breathing, “and after that I’m going to call you. If you have an entire page filled with something coherent, we’ll have a deal… If you come empty-handed or with unreadable scribblings, the guard will deal with you immediately. Understood, tramp?”

The deal was clear and Zuko could complete its requirements without endangering himself unless there was a hidden trick. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Don’t think about copying anything from the books,” said the man, waving his hand at the bookshelves. “I will know if you do. Write anything… I don’t care…um, describe the room? _Whatever_.”

So Zuko described the _fucking room_ , all this while the _fucking noble_ was eating and chatting behind the wall with a _fucking guard_. The walls were thick, he couldn’t hear what they were talking about… For a brief moment, Zuko considered jumping from the window but decided against it. Fuck it, he has gone too far with it to escape now. _He could write_.

The page was only half-full and Zuko couldn’t think of any damn thing more he could write about this fucking room. He didn’t want to risk putting book titles here… Books… _Scrolls…_

He knew a few lines by heart, and the man hadn’t got any scrolls in the room so it should be fine…

Zuko was about to write his favorite line from _Love amongst the Dragons_ when he realized it was _Fire Nation_ play. Instead, he quoted a few short lines from the play Huong had given him, it was an Earth Kingdom play that _an orphan like Lee_ could know without raising suspicions.

 _Well…_ thinking things through was actually pretty useful.

When Zuko couldn’t fit any more line into the page he put the writing set back into the drawer and examined his work. His characters were in the same size, put next to each other in a straight line, not even the smallest blot on the page, he hasn’t forgotten about the small differences in the Earth Kingdom’s script. Even his tutors wouldn’t find anything to nag him for, there was no way _Mr. Xaalo_ was more demanding than his tutors.

Zuko tried to relax and enjoy the luxury of sitting but he couldn’t, he was waiting for a call like a servant. Now, it made sense why palace servants had been so stressed and tensed after being summoned…

“Filthy Boy!” Zuko heard a calling from the living room, then the man added a bit quieter, “Let’s get this done.”

Zuko grabbed the parchment and stood up. He groaned taking the first step with his bad leg, he was curious how his thigh looked like, he hadn’t unwrapped the bandages since Moosha had applied them. _Filthy_ , was a good word to describe him these days.

A small table in the corner was occupied by two men – Mr. Xaalo and a middle-aged guy in guards’ uniform, he didn’t look like an earthbender, but Zuko wasn’t entirely sure. He tried to hide his limp while approaching them, Mr. Xaalo knew about this, but he could try to hide his weakness before the guard. Zuko stopped a safe distance from both men, in case everything went wrong, he could choose between three escape routes.

The guard guy theoretically didn’t look intimidating, his cheeks were round, eyes small, he wasn’t in the best shape, the uniform tight on his belly. The man was looking at Zuko with a strange expression and a small, crooked smile.

“ _This_ is the lad I’m supposed to pick up, Mr. Xaalo?” asked the guard.

“Yup, the brat himself,” said the man, clearly amused.

The guard sighed. “Come on, kid, you won’t make a scene and I won’t put you in the cell with real thugs. A week or two and a meal daily, it’s not that bad, right?”

Zuko stepped back, glaring at the noble. “It wasn’t our deal,” he growled.

Mr. Xaalo stood up and walked to Zuko, it took every scrap of his control not to flinch and run away. “Right, right…” he said, reaching out his hand. “Show me what you created here.”

With a shaking hand, Zuko passed his work to the man. The Noble’s smug expression faded when he looked at the writings, Zuko wasn’t breathing, keeping his eye on the guard, ready to flee in any moment. The flames in the chandelier flickered, fortunately, no one noticed.

Mr. Xaalo rolled the parchment and turned to the guard. “False alarm, Gilo. I’m keeping the brat.”

“Mr. Xaalo… reconsider this,” said the guard. “The boy is ready to flee at any moment.”

Zuko scowled at the guard, the noble only laughed. “I’m not surprised, I wouldn’t want to go with you either. Besides, he wouldn’t succeed, he has a limp.”

The guard blushed but he wasn’t finished yet. “Mr. Xaalo are you sure you want to have a wayward teen as a scribe?”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” remarked the man. “Can _you_ write, Gilo?”

“… Not very well, Sir.”

“Exactly,” he said and turned back to Zuko. “Relax, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we have a deal.” The noble turned to the guard. “That’s all, Gilo, it’s time for you.”

The guard awkwardly stood up from the table. “Of course, Mr. Xaalo… but are you sure it’s safe?” he asked, frowning at Zuko.

“Ugh…,” growled the noble. “Fine… If I’m murdered in the closest future, you will blame this scarred fellow.” He pointed at Zuko. “Are you happy now? Get out, don’t test my hospitality.”

“Of course. Goodbye, Mr. Xaalo,” said the man and left the house.

Mr. Xaalo put the parchment on the table, crossed his arms, and looked at Zuko with raised eyebrows. “You indeed can write, boy.”

“I wasn’t lying,” barked Zuko, then took a calming breath. Keeping his anger at bay when the room was filled with a scent of food wasn’t easy. “Can you give me a real task now?”

“You don’t look like a workaholic, you know?”

Zuko’s stomach wasn’t taking this conversation too well. “ _Sir_ , can you, _please_ , give me a real task that you will pay me for?” Zuko forced through clenched teeth, the flames in the chandelier flickering dangerously behind the man.

The man chuckled – _fucking chuckled_. “In fact, I’m not prepared with anything. I wasn’t expecting that a ragamuffin like you could write. Tomorrow. Be patient, lad.”

_Fucking patient._

_Be fucking patient._

It was the end of Zuko being patient.

“I’ve just _WASTED_ my time doing this for nothing!” fumed Zuko. “I’m not going to be fucking patient when instead of looking for food, I was describing your fucking office because you didn’t believe me that I can write!” Zuko had to calm down a little unless he wanted to set the ceiling on fire.

He has just yelled at the man.

The man just stood there with crossed arms and an unimpressed face.

“Likes talking-back and screaming. _Noted_ ,” mocked the noble. “Listen, Fuckedface… I wouldn’t put up with your attitude if you weren’t the only literate person in this shithole,” he said in a calm voice. “Would you manage to shut your fucking mouth if I gave you food?”

“…Wh – What?”

“Are you deaf now?”

Zuko was just staring at the man in front of him. He’s lost his temper and yelled at _the noble_ … He expected to be kicked out of the house, taken to the guard, punished… not offered food. _Where was the trick?_

“I don’t have money to pay for it,” said Zuko, ashamed, his face turned away from the noble.

“I’ve noticed. I said I would _give_ you food.”

“ _Give_ ,” Zuko repeated hesitantly. “Without any trick?”

“For fuck’s sake, boy! You are giving me a headache!” growled the man. He sat on the chair he had been using earlier, then pointed his finger at Zuko. “Actually… there is a trick… _You stink_. I can’t stand this any longer. I have to look at you already, I don’t want to _smell_ you.”

Zuko’s face turned red.

“Now, go to the old servants’ closet and find something to wear. Get rid of those filthy rags, I don’t want to see them. Then go to the staff’s bathroom and do something about this smell. Then you may come to the kitchen and we will discuss your employment. Any more yells?”

“No, Sir.”

“Off my sight!”

Zuko limped as fast as he could from the living room. He leaned over the wall when the man couldn’t see him and breathed heavily… _What the fuck…?_ No, he was too exhausted to think. Zuko found the closet and picked up the first clothes he noticed, hoping that they would fit, then he turned to the bathroom. He wouldn’t overthink the first possibility in weeks to wash. He stripped off his rags and turned on the water.

It was the closest thing to happiness he could achieve.

Zuko didn’t want to look at his body, at the scars, and bruises. He wanted to forget about everything and just enjoy the warm water that wasn’t giving him any pain besides the light stinging from when the skin wasn’t healed yet. _Shit…_ he has forgotten to remove the bandages. Now, they were damp and completely destroyed. Zuko was surprised that Moosha’s work survived the last weeks.

Zuko stood in front of a big mirror and looked at himself for the first time since… _long time_.

He could count his ribs.

His cheekbones haven’t been this sharp.

He turned around to see his back. Three big vertical scars were well visible, spreading across his shoulder blades, many smaller ones scattered on his skin from the neck to the lower back, the big ones still surrounded by fading bruises. Zuko swallowed a lump in his throat and looked away. No need to tempt his fucked-up mind to show the _flashback_ of it.

At least the bruise on his thigh was still big but in a fading state. Zuko cursed himself again for damping the bandages and put on the new clothes. A grey, long-sleeved shirt and almost black pants, way softer than his old prison rags. He wrapped the wet bandages into the clothes and left the bathroom. He walked through the dark living room, following the light shimmering on the walls he reached the kitchen.

“Not that fast,” the noble said as soon as Zuko entered the room. “This goes outside.” He pointed at the clothes in Zuko’s hand. “Go and leave it on the porch, you will deal with this later.”

Zuko nodded and did as he was told. He had to change his limping-tactic, now, when his leg was no longer squeezed by the bandages walking felt less stable. He glared bitterly at his staff and headed back to the kitchen.

This time Zuko spoke first.

“Um, thank you, um… for the clothes, I mean. And I apologize for my earlier outburst,” he said, bowing his head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t grovel, brat,” scowled the man. “You will get the food after we finish the business. Sit.”

Zuko sat at the table on the man’s left so the scar wasn’t visible. Mr. Xaalo placed Zuko’s writings on the table in front of him.

“First of all, what is this bullshit at the end?”

Zuko’s face turned red, he answered without looking at the man. “I didn’t know what else I could write about the room. Those are a few lines from a play.”

 _“… A play_? I hate this bullshit. _Wait…_ You’ve memorized lines?” the noble asked.

Zuko nodded.

“Oh spirits… _An artist_. Nevermind… Another thing is that this quality of your writings is intolerable.”

 _“What?!”_ snapped Zuko, then calmed down. “I mean… yes, I can do better – “

“Shut up and don’t you dare to try that,” growled the man. “You write like a fucking nobility, ragged boy.” Zuko tensed. “I don’t care how did you learned but it’s too perfect – “

_… Too perfect?_

“ – others will think that I’m loaded enough – “

_Too perfect._

“ – to hire a professional and raise the prices – “

_Too perfect…_

“ – and I don’t want that. Can you go from calligraphy to normal scribblings?”

 _Too perfect._ Nobody ever used this term to describe anything Zuko did.

_Never._

“Boy?! Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yes. I can, yes.”

_Too fucking perfect._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give Zuko a moment the boy is stunned...
> 
> What do you think about this strange relationship they have? Where is this going? I would love to read your predictions and judging of Mr. Xaalo :) 
> 
> I've made a quick update so I can make demands now --> COMMENT (please)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the huge amount of comments under the last chapter!!!!
> 
> I'm happy you like my next Oc!!!!
> 
> Enjoy :)

_Too perfect_.

Zuko repeated the words in his mind over and over again. Things said by some noble in the middle of the Earth Kingdom shouldn’t have left him speechless, shouldn’t have made his empty stomach twist, shouldn’t have made the weird pressure in his chest… But it did.

It hasn’t changed anything in his hopeless situation but in a wicked way Zuko couldn’t comprehend… it did matter.

“ _Glorious…_ ” sighed Mr. Xaalo. Zuko forced his mind to focus and follow what the man wanted to say. “Now, I’m going to ask pointless questions, since I’m pretty sure I know the answers.”

 _A test_. Zuko's heart rate picked up, he looked from the corner of his eye at the man who sat half leaning over the table, so his full focus was on Zuko, who did all he could to avoid facing him. He had a cover-story but his lying skills…

“Okay…” he said carefully, not that his consent mattered.

“Have you been living on the streets?”

“…Yes,” answered Zuko, looking down. The next question would be _how long_ , it had to be, and then _where are you from_ , and then probably _how did you end up here_ , and maybe something connected with parents… Zuko knew the answers if he wouldn’t rush it and watch his words… But he was so damned hungry… He had to live through the questioning to be allowed to eat… If the man hadn’t lied. Fuck… there would be a question about _his ethnicity_ , it would be the hardest one.

“It shows… Honestly, I’m surprised you knew how to use a bathroom. You shout pretty loudly for a bag of bones,” smirked the man. “All this – “

“I’m sorry, Sir, I – I wasn’t – “

“Do not interrupt me, brat! I already told you I don’t like groveling,” barked the man. “ _All this_ because of such a trivial thing as food. You are starved.”

It wasn’t formed as a question, so Zuko didn’t answer, or look the man in the face. He was so furious that this man had the audacity to diminish… to call it _trivial_. Hunger wasn’t trivial, it was _degrading_. Zuko focused on taking calm breaths, he was good at taking mocking.

“Last days have not gone too well or is it a long-term thing?” asked the man.

A short period without food felt different. Zuko had experienced it at the North Pole, it hadn’t been this draining, he hadn’t been this desperate, he hadn’t lost so much weight. “Long-term,” answered Zuko.

The man sighed as if he was irritated by the answer. “Like I said… I didn’t even need to ask about those things.. _.” What?! Was that the end of the questioning_? “Average scribe’s wage is around ten coins a day. I’m willing to give you five,” said the man, raising his eyebrow.

Zuko thought about times Uncle had been successfully haggling with merchants in various ports, back then Zuko couldn’t have stood it, he had been stomping away as soon as he heard Uncle’s haggling tone. Zuko has never been good at this, he got irritated too fast and hardly ever knew the actual value of the product. Now, he was too exhausted to even try bargaining.

Zuko lowered his head. “Okay.”

“You are such a disappointment,” growled the man. The words cut deeper than the other insults the man was spitting in his every sentence. “You didn’t even try to negotiate… I thought that someone so desperate would care about every copper.”

Zuko didn’t answer.

“With your skills, you could easily demand at least twenty,” said the man, waiting for a reaction, Zuko stayed quiet. All he wanted at this moment was _food._ “But since we agreed… five coins it is,” Mr. Xaalo smirked. “Paid after the day of work.”

This meant Zuko would be hungry tomorrow. “Okay.”

“After you finish working for me the guard will lock you in prison.”

Zuko’s eyes widened in panic as he turned to look at the man. “What?! You – you can’t do that I – “

“Hush!” The man waved his hand in Zuko’s direction. “Kidding. I was just checking would you agree with everything I said.” Zuko glared at the man, clenching his fist on the table. Mr. Xaalo noticed and smirked. “You are _hot_ - _tempered_ , Scarface.”

Zuko took a deep breath. “Mr. Xaalo could I get food?” asked Zuko trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “I will be gone and back tomorrow at any time you choose Sir.”

“Yes and no,” answered Mr. Xaalo. He stood up and walked to the pots standing on the oven nearby. After he lifted the lid hot steam escaped the pot and the smell of cooked rice reached Zuko’s nose, his stomach flipped. “The douchebag was right – you are a wayward teen. I prefer to keep an eye on you, so you will stay here.”

Zuko was glaring at the man’s back, he didn’t like where it was going. “What do you mean _here_?” growled Zuko.

“I’ve got a cage in my basement.” Zuko abruptly pushed back in his chair, the man turned to him with a bowl in his hand. “ _Seriously,_ Twerp _?_ You are too easy to mess with.” Zuko was ready to flee at any moment when the man placed the bowl on the table in front of him. The vision of being caged made his heart beat faster but the smell of food kept him in place. “I’ve got unoccupied servant’s room unless you prefer the basement?”

Zuko barely managed to take his eyes off the food and look at the man in front of him. “You want to let me live here?”

“For the period you will work for me, I can make that sacrifice and let you sleep here.”

Zuko nodded, feeling that another question would make the man angry, which could result in his food being taken away. Mr. Xaalo took chopsticks and handed them to him.

“Thank you,” muttered Zuko.

“Don’t make a mess,” said the man, then walked to the sink and began to clean dishes, which was a strange thing to do for a noble.

Zuko looked into his steaming bowl, it was only plain rice, not more than a half bowl. Zuko took the first bite with a plan to enjoy the taste but it ended in rapid bites, he couldn’t stop himself from stuffing his mouth and swallowing as fast as he could. He thought about the scolding he would take if he ate like this in the palace. Between the bites Zuko was glancing at the man who had finished doing the dishes, now he was clearing the worktop. Zuko spotted that some of the rice was still left in the pot.

His bowl was empty after what felt like a second, he didn’t felt full at all.

“Umm… Sir, um…“ Mr. Xaalo turned to Zuko. “Could I, um… could I have more?” he asked, looking down, feeling the blush on his cheeks.

“No.”

The man could’ve punched him, it would feel the same.

“Please –”

“No.”

Zuko was ready to plead – _he’d felt so fucking low_.

“Please, I – I… you will take that from my wage –“

“I said no, Filthy Boy,” growled Mr. Xaalo, he took Zuko’s bowl and put it in the sink.

Zuko lowered his head to avoid looking at the man or at the shelves in the kitchen. He shouldn’t have asked… The noble seemed to be practical and focused on his scribe abilities. If Zuko wouldn’t infuriate Mr. Xaalo too much, he should be safe. He had no idea why, but the hard questions hadn’t been asked.

“It’s late,” growled the man. “I won’t waste my entire evening dealing with a starved rat. After me, brat.”

Zuko followed the man to the servants’ quarter. It was a room with three empty beds, not as luxurious as the rest of the house but not 'a _cage in the basement’_ either.

“…Um, there aren’t other staff members?” Zuko asked, cautiously.

“No, they were pissing me off,” shrugged the man. “A girl comes to do cleaning a few times a week, same with the gardener.”

It didn’t bode well… Zuko has heard multiple times that he was irritating and not wanted around, both _on the ship_ and _in the palace_. He hoped that Mr. Xaalo wouldn’t kick him out at least before the first payment…

“I will get you in the morning,” said the man. “Don’t make a mess, don’t wander around, don’t fucking try to wake me up.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Zuko, bowing his head.

* * *

It was the middle of the night and Zuko was laying in bed – _in an actual bed_ – on a soft mattress with a thick blanket to cover himself. With no threat of guards coming in any moment to check on him, with no threat of being found by someone under a tree or behind a rock, with no one around who openly talk about murdering him…

He should be able to sleep.

He’d really tried.

But it hasn’t worked.

The best he managed to do was drifting on the edge of consciousness while looking at the ceiling. It gave his aching body some relief but hasn’t done any good for his exhausted mind. His _grumbling, aching, empty_ stomach wasn’t helping either…

Zuko tried to curl up to ease the terrible feeling but it hasn’t made any difference. Resigned, he sat on the bed, rested his elbows on his knees, careful not to irritate his thigh, and buried his head in his palms. He hadn’t paid much attention to his hair earlier. It’s grown longer, not any close to his phoenix-tail length, but some of the strands have stopped being rough and stiff. Zuko brushed it with his fingers, he felt the small hidden scar on the side of his head. _At least this one wasn’t visible_.

He was so hungry.

And the food was so close.

He made a reckless decision and limped to the door.

After years of sneaking around as Blue Spirit, a messed-up leg couldn’t take from him all of his stealth abilities. He listened closely for any noises that would mean that the noble wasn’t asleep – he heard none. The house had two floors and he was almost sure that the noble’s bedroom was on the upper one – it had to be. Zuko carefully opened the door, relieved that it wasn’t locked from the outside, and stepped into the corridor.

His limping was two-times slower than usual but at least he has found a way to make it quietly. He walked past the stairs, with no signs of being discovered, and reached the kitchen. The pot he saw earlier was there. Zuko lifted the lid and without bothering himself with heating the rice started eating. He barely stopped himself when he realized that the man, for sure, would notice if everything disappeared.

Zuko was still hungry.

Carefully he began checking the contents of the shelves. He found a jar with dried meat and ate a few pieces, then he found where Mr. Xaalo stocked his baking and ate two rolls, after that he ate some vegetables from the lower shelf, finally he stuffed his mouths with a piece of weird cake.

He was still hungry but not _empty._

Zuko looked at the kitchen and once again checked if he put everything in the right places. Mr. Xaalo shouldn’t notice _the lack of such a trivia thing as food_.

He would worry about this later.

Zuko came back to the servant’s room, sat on the bed, and waited for the moment when he stops feeling hungry. He felt that _something_ was happening in his stomach, it wasn’t pleasant… He hoped that the cramps would stop after some time, but it became worst with every minute. Zuko curled on the floor, clenching his stomach, and groaning softly when the pain didn’t want to go away…

Then nausea came…

Zuko swallowed the first wave and got to his feet. _What was happening?_

The feeling in his stomach barely allowed him to stay upright. He stumbled to the door. He had to go to the bathroom, he couldn’t make a mess... _What was happening to him?_

Zuko opened the door and limp-ran to the bathroom, feeling the second wave coming. He fell to his knees and puked into the toilet.

He couldn’t stop.

And it hurt.

He was clenching the side of the toilet trying to catch a breath between gagging. The smell of his vomit made him gag again. He didn’t know when he started crying but his cheeks were wet.

The cramping hasn’t stopped even after he hadn’t got anything more to puke.

Zuko couldn’t breathe properly.

Finally, he managed to lean against the wall. His throat was raw, the awful taste filling his entire mouth, his stomach still hurt but not as bad as before. Zuko closed his eyes and breathed through his lips to avoid inhaling the terrible smell. With squeezed eyelids, he flushed the toilet to get rid of what was left from his stolen food.

“You couldn’t have done anything more foolish, Street-rat.”

Mr. Xaalo stood in the doorframe in a dark-green nightgown with a metal rod in his hand, looking at Zuko sprawled on the bathroom floor. He stopped breathing, looked wide-eyed at the man with a weapon, blocking his only way out.

He knew about the theft.

According to the little boy in the Earth Kingdom village, the punishment for theft was whipping.

He glanced at the rod in man’s hand and crawled to the corner.

_Anything but that…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole Xaalo's _joke _about the cage in the basement has been inspired by the comment about the murder basement 😆 I really liked it! Thank you, dear person!__
> 
> _  
> _So... yeah. Cliffhanger. I feel incredibly cruel after reading so many people excited about my man Xaalo... I'm dying to know what do you all think now..._  
> _
> 
> _  
> _Don't hate me. We all know I like cliffhangers._  
> _
> 
> _  
> _Rants and (nice) yelling on the author allowed. COMMENT 🖤 Do you still like my next oc...?_  
> _


	13. Chapter 13

“I – I… I’m…” Zuko stuttered, pushing his back into the corner, trying to stay as far away from the man as possible.

_I didn’t do it?_ He did.

 _It’s not like that?_ It is exactly like that.

 _I’m sorry?_ The man didn’t like pleading.

Zuko clenched his aching stomach, he couldn’t curl on the floor in front of the man. He felt like his organs have been mixed up and put into the wrong places to tear him from the inside. His inner flame dimmed by the lack of breath, Zuko was sure he wouldn’t create a spark even if he tried.

Mr. Xaalo didn’t move, leaning nonchalantly on the metal rod as if it were a cane, looking at Zuko with an unreadable face. Another strong cramp pierced his stomach and Zuko gasped, involuntary tears escaping his eye, dread squeezing his throat.

“Please… I… I wasn’t… like… sorry… d – don’t call… I – I can… back… don’t,” Zuko splattered, unable to make a coherent sentence in this state.

Zuko’s vision was unfocused but he spotted the movement of the noble’s hand. He flinched hitting his head against the wall when something was thrown into his face. He expected pain from the impact but the object on his face was light and soft.

“Vomit and scar at once is too much for me to bear,” said the noble. “Clean yourself.”

Mr. Xaalo’s face winced in disgust. With shaking hands Zuko grabbed the rag that fell on his knees and started sweeping disgusting substance from around his mouth and chin. He wouldn’t dare to disobey the man in these circumstances, he couldn’t escape… _Damn it…_ he didn’t want to escape… he had a place to stay and a fucking job but of course, he had to destroy everything.

“Leave the rag,” ordered the man. Zuko obediently put it on the floor. “Get up.”

His chest was rising and falling way too fast, it was truly a miracle that his mind didn’t betray him and was still focused on the present moment. Straightening up was nearly impossible but Zuko managed to do it with clenched teeth, he rose to his feet, staying as far away from the man as possible. His leg was killing him but the rod in Mr. Xaalo’s hand was a good distraction. The noble noticed Zuko’s glances and smirked.

He lifted the metal rod. “You are right… It is my way to deal with thieves,” he said, to emphasize his point he slowly swung the rod. “The ones who can actually walk and are smart enough not to throw up their guts afterward.” The man leaned on the rod again. “Get off the bathroom,” he growled.

Zuko hesitated. The man theoretically said he wouldn’t use the rod to hit him, but at the same time, he admitted that was his plan. He has been fooled like this way too many times. Zuko’s options were leaving this bathroom _and risking the hit_ or staying in the corner and _risking the hit_ – he liked neither of the outcomes.

“Off the bathroom, brat!” growled the man, his tone more irritated.

“Are you going to hit me with this?” asked Zuko, not that he would believe the answer anyway… He was buying himself some time.

“No, I’m going to gut you,” the man deadpanned. Zuko pushed himself further into the corner, clenching his aching stomach. “Spirits, why do you hate me so much?” muttered the man, rubbing his face. “If I wanted to beat you, I would do it when you were sprawled on the ground.” Zuko didn’t move, he knew too well that in both positions beating was effective, and the outcome was the same. “I’m not going to splash my poker with your dirty blood! Get the fuck out of the bathroom,” the man didn’t yell but he was pretty close to that.

Zuko took the first hesitant step and his knee buckled under him, he regained his balance and walked within the man’s reach. His eyes jumping from the rod to the noble, expecting the strike that hasn’t come yet. Instead, the man grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt and marched through the hallway. Zuko wasn’t resisting, he let the man drag him through the corridor, keeping an eye on the rod in the man’s other hand.

“I can’t fucking believe I have to deal with this!” growled the man under his breath.

Finally, the man released his hold and pushed Zuko, he expected to land on the ground or roll from the stairs but instead, he landed on the soft cushions of the sofa. Mr. Xaalo – still holding the rod – pointed at him with his finger.

“Stay here!” he growled and walked out of Zuko’s sight.

Before Zuko could decide if he wanted to stay or flee another cramp pierced his abdomen. He clenched his stomach groaning softly until the pain faded. _What was happening to him?_ He has eaten Mr. Xaalo’s food it couldn’t have been poisoned! _Were spirits playing tricks on him?_ _But why?_ He fucked up his life enough all by himself, he didn’t need any help with that! Zuko closed his eyes and leaned his head over the back of the sofa when another wave of pain radiated through his stomach.

Zuko’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when something heavy landed on the table in front of him. He tensed, pushing himself further into the cushions. Mr. Xaalo sat down in the armchair opposite Zuko, he took a small sip from the glass filled with amber liquid before speaking. He leaned the metal rod over the armchair, it was too close to the man’s hand.

“Open the book on the marked page,” he instructed.

“What?”

“Open the book, brat,” growled Mr. Xaalo, taking another sip. “Time to use your questionably acquired skills to something practical, not to reading and _memorizing_ dumb fictional nonsense.”

Zuko scowled at the man and took the hardback. There was a folded page somewhere in the middle, he opened the heavy book on his lap and looked at Mr. Xaalo with confusion. This definitely wasn’t the theft punishment he expected, not that he complained.

“Read the chapter,” said the man, taking a sip, wincing slightly at the taste.

Outside, the sun was only minutes from rising, the last moments of the night passing by; inside, the room was lightened by dim green lamps that made reading uncomfortable but possible. Zuko narrowed his eyes and began to read, not daring to complain about the darkness.

He read the chapter title – ‘ _Refeeding after starvation’_. He looked up at the man who was giving him a constant withering look, slowly sipping his drink.

Zuko ignored the pain and began reading the chapter. The man stopped staring at him only for a brief moment when he went to refill his glass, from the scent Zuko guessed it was something stronger. He read the chapter to the last word, even if after the midpoint he already know how big an idiot he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?!” he asked, purposely closing the book with a little too much force.

The man raised his eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me that you planned to invade my kitchen?

“I – I, ugh… I wasn’t planning… I…” Zuko looked down, not sure what he wanted to say in his defense.” I – I didn’t know – “

“Oh, really? You looked like you enjoyed spitting your guts out,” quipped the man.

“ – that it will end like this,” finished Zuko, ignoring the remark. At least now he knew _what happened to him._ Ashamed, he looked up at Mr. Xaalo, who was sitting in his chair looking straight at Zuko with those piercing eyes, saying nothing, enjoying the moment. “What’s going to happen now?” he asked quietly.

“You tell me,” said the man, leaning back in his chair. “What’s going to happen now?” he parroted him.

Zuko clenched his fists on his lap. “I’m not the one to decide that.”

“Of course, you are not,” said Mr. Xaalo, his expression unreadable for Zuko. “I want to hear what do you think should happen, little thief.”

Zuko has never been good at choosing adequate punishments for his mistakes or guessing how the punishment would look like. It has always ended badly for him.

“I’ve stolen your food, Sir,” he stated his crime, he had to start with something, and facts seemed to be safe enough. “Oh… and, um, disobeyed you by leaving the room… um, and waking you up… and I’ve made a mess…” Zuko realized those things after he said them out loud. _Oh Agni… It was bad…_ His breath picked up.

Mr. Xaalo rubbed his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “I forgot about that, good that you brought it up. Carry on.”

Zuko wanted to hit his head against the wall. “I, um… I apologize… I wasn’t thinking – “

“Yeah, you clearly have a problem with that.”

“ – I shouldn’t have done that after you gave me a job and, um… and food.” Zuko thought about the decorated cup laying somewhere in the office. “I mean I shouldn’t have done that… like…um, generally. Theft… I mean, it’s generally wrong, and, um – “

“Strong moral compass… _Impressive_ ,” the noble mocked.

“ – I was hungry, and I didn’t know I can’t eat anything more that you gave me, um – “

“So, it’s my fault?” suggested the noble. “You are manipulating the facts to make it my fault?”

“No!” panicked Zuko. He didn’t even know how to manipulate, he was the one being manipulated every time. The noble chuckled and quickly covered his lips. “Of course not, Sir. I’m fully responsible for my actions… it’s just…um, I didn’t want to… ugh, I mean… I hadn’t planned it! It’s just…”

Mr. Xaalo took the final sip. “Brat, your monologue is truly touching but to the point.”

“Right… I still want to work as your scribe, Mr. Xaalo. I won’t do that again… I will give you back the money, um, I mean you will take away the appropriate amount from my wage… I will understand if you want me out of your house, um… I can come just to do work and, um…” Zuko took a deep breath when he felt his voice was close to shaking. “I humbly request not to involve the guards,” he said quietly, bowing his head. The man remained silent, so he continued. “You have my word that I won’t try anything like that again and, um…I wouldn’t be any use as a scribe… locked up in prison I mean,” _Not to mention whipped,_ “it would make our deal impossible to finalize, um, or at least very hard because, um… theoretically I know that – “

“Just shut up,” Mr. Xaalo interrupted him massaging his temples. “It’s good that at least your writing is decent… your verbal skills are terrible, boy. Initially, it was amusing but now… _just stop_.”

“ _You_ told me to talk in the first place!” snapped Zuko.

His stomach calmed down a bit, now, it was just well-known pain caused by hunger, not this terrible feeling from earlier. Unfortunately, it allowed his temper to show.

“I will add this to the list of things I regret,” the man retorted. He stood from his chair taking the metal rod, Zuko tensed but the man only put it next to the fireplace. “Do you feel like vomiting again?”

Zuko was taken aback by the sudden question. “Um… I don’t think so.”

“Good. I don’t want your filthy insides over my papers.”

“… That means I’m not discharged?”

Mr. Xaalo sighed and looked up. “You don’t touch anything in the kitchen, and you don’t come any close to this area when I’m not watching your hands, Starved Rat. I won’t let you plunder my cupboards,” the man barked. “Also, your wage is temporally canceled.”

“I – I won’t afford anything to eat,” gasped Zuko, well aware that food was still his biggest concern. “I know I can’t eat much, but eating nothing would be worst, I – “

“I won’t risk that you puke over my papers after you eat some shit. I will supervise your meals. Other agreements stay the same.”

Zuko awkwardly stood up from the sofa, he faced Mr. Xaalo with slightly averted head to hide the scar – the man was really verbal about how ugly it was. “Thank you, Sir,” he said and bowed.

“Whatever,” mumbled the man and looked through the window. “You deprived us of sleep, Filthy Boy. Straight to the office and get the tools ready, I will be there in a minute to tell you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.”

* * *

Coping an enormous stack of papers wasn’t hard, especially after Mr. Xaalo allowed Zuko to use his normal handwriting. The man had gotten irritated when Zuko asked how many crooked words should be on a single page... They agreed that in these private documents Zuko could use his _‘fucking calligraphy’_.

This whole disaster ended surprisingly well – Zuko expected that something would collapse on him at any moment.

Around midday Mr. Xaalo’s loud voice almost made him spill the ink onto his finished papers.

“Come here, brat!”

Zuko hoped it was a food-related call, whatever _supervised meals_ meant, Zuko hoped it would start fast.

When he stepped into the kitchen various scents made his stomach flip. Mr. Xaalo stood next to the oven with rolled sleeves, stirring in a pot with one hand, chopping vegetables with the other. Zuko frowned seeing the noble preparing his own meals, it was definitely strange by the Fire Nation’s standards.

Zuko cleared his throat, standing awkwardly _not too close_ to the kitchen. “You called me, Sir.”

“Pour water to the cups and sit,” the man commanded without turning to Zuko.

Zuko limped to the table and carefully poured water from the carafe and sat in the same place as yesterday. After a moment, the noble put a nice-looking dish on the table, adding something red into it, then turned around to get a bowl of plain rice. He put it in front of Zuko.

“Slowly this time, Bones.”

The man sat down across from him and they began to eat. Honestly, Zuko was surprised that, given this man's attitude towards him, he didn't mind eating at the same table. Zuko glanced at the noble from time to time, he noticed the way the man’s hand was shaking while scooping food. Immediately he focused back on his own bowl, knowing better not to stare.

“I’ve noticed that you got your dirty hands on my dried meat, some vegetables, and at least one roll. Anything else?”

This might be a test, the man could know about the rest and only checking if Zuko would tell the truth.

Zuko blushed looking up at the man. “Two rolls, um… some leftover rice… and, um… a piece of cake?”

 _“What?!”_ snapped the noble. Zuko flinched and dropped one of his chopsticks. “You not only dared to steal _my tart,_ but you threw up it afterward!”

“I’m sorry,” muttered Zuko.

“I’m scandalized, Scarface. _My tart!?”_

“Sorry.”

The man growled. “Whatever.”

Zuko slowed his eating as much as he could to avoid finishing his small portion before Mr. Xaalo. “Um, do you always cook by yourself, Sir?” Zuko asked, hesitantly.

“Yes. Any chef I hired didn’t know how to spice things,” growled the man. “As they say… If you want something done right, do it yourself… Or hire a street-rat with calligraphy skills that would be suitable for royalty,” the man added raising his eyebrow.

Zuko stopped breathing, his heart almost broke his ribs after hearing any mention of royalty. “I – um, my skills, um… aren’t that good, Sir,” he mumbled, avoiding looking at the noble.

“Sure, brat…” snickered the noble. He shoved small fruit and a knife towards Zuko. “This should end fine if you peel the skin.”

Zuko nodded and started carefully peeling the fruit. The man collected empty dishes and was about to clean them when a loud knock disturbed the silence.

“What now?” growled the noble and stormed to the door. From Zuko’s chair, the person at the door couldn’t see him but he could see Mr. Xaalo’s back. “I thought I’ve made myself clear when I told you not to test my hospitality.”

“I’m doing my job Mr. Xaalo.”

Zuko recognized the voice from yesterday – _the guard_. Mr. Xaalo said he wouldn’t call the guards…

“Since when your job includes bothering me?” asked the noble, his tone clearly irritated, this calmed Zuko a bit.

“I haven’t seen the boy. Did you really hire him, Sir?”

“That’s none of your business, Gilo.”

“Mr. Xaalo did you noticed that the boy is not entirely from here?” Zuko stopped breathing and dropped the knife from his shaking hand.

“It’s hard not to notice he’s a tramp. What’s your point?”

“Not that… Mr. Xaalo, I think that the boy is half-breed,” the man whispered, Zuko barely catch the last word.

“ _Huh…_ I didn’t think you were a racist, Gilo,” Mr. Xaalo scoffed.

“I -um, I’m not… it’s just not safe, Sir. You don’t know what –“

“Fuck off, Gilo.”

Mr. Xaalo slammed the door and came back to the kitchen massaging his temples, muttering something under his breath. When he spotted Zuko he rubbed his face and stopped in the middle of his step.

“No… Don’t you dare to tell me you will throw up again! You are pale as a corpse.”

Zuko looked with wide eyes at the man, his hands shaking on his lap. “I – I… no. The – the guard – “

“I’m sure you eavesdropped, which means you know that he wasn’t here for you.”

“No, I mean yes, but… I – I… what he said,” stuttered Zuko.

 _“Spirits I hate you all…”_ muttered the man. “To the point, brat!”

Zuko took a shaky breath. “That I’m a half-breed.”

He carefully observed the noble’s reaction, he expected the man to at least be surprised but the noble just kept staring at him.

“So what?”

“You knew?” dumbfounded Zuko. “I mean, um… are you okay with this, Sir?” he asked hesitantly. He suspected that it would be shameful for a noble to have any connections with other nations… or at least it would work like that in the Fire Nation.

“Do you think I’m blind, boy?”

“…No.”

“My guess was that you were fully Fire Nation, with those eyes… or rather eye… You are mixed-blood, you know what?” asked the man without waiting for Zuko’s answer. “I couldn’t care less. I do not care about your _tragic backstory_. Understood?”

Zuko couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “I, um, yes… Thanks?”

Mr. Xaalo growled, grabbing the pot from the kitchen. “Whatever,” muttered the man, pouring himself a dark liquid from the pot. “You look like shit.”

Zuko hid the scar from the man’s view. He forgot about doing this when he thought his entire disguise collapsed.

“Ugh… not that… I mean generally. Have you slept or were you planning your _invasion_ at night? That’s really fire-nation of you,” said the man, sipping his drink.

Zuko gaped at the man, he couldn’t find any words to answer _that_. “I – I didn’t… Ugh, nevermind... I’m not sleeping well. Can I get back to work?”

Zuko needed silence, his mind was spinning.

“Not that fast,” said the noble. He took another cup, filled it with the dark liquid, and handed it to Zuko. “This may be risky but will keep you awake.”

Zuko hesitantly took the cup. “What is this?”

“The only thing that keeps me in this world. Try it,” said the man, taking a sip.

The smell of the drink was intensive but pleasant, Zuko took a sip.

Firstly, it was bitter, but it was a different kind of bitterness from Uncle’s teas, this drink tasted like it was supposed to be bitter. _This kind of bitterness was good_. After he swallowed the taste changed into something more delicate but still caustic.

It wasn’t as plain as tea.

It was actually _good_.

“What is this?” he asked again, this time out of pure curiosity.

Mr. Xaalo smiled. “ _Coffee_ , brat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the cliffhanger --> Ok, mostly everyone suspected I will not get violent. Yeah, you were right but I wanted to keep you on your toes a bit 😈
> 
> Did Xaalo make Zuko talk only because he finds it amusing? Highly possible.  
> I love reading your changing opinions about him so please put them in the comments!! I will take comments as Christmas gifts :D
> 
> Predictions? Character analysis of my dear man Xaalo? Or anything about Zuko? I will take it all. And now when little cliffhanger isn't stopping me I would love to chat in the comments!!!
> 
> Uncle Iroh would kill me but I'm going to make Zuko coffee person. Nobody can stop me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how but it's going weirdly fast... I'm not gonna complain :)  
> Have fun!

All his meals were the same – half bowl of plain rice, once a day Mr. Xaalo gave him something extra to check his reaction to it. On the second day of his refeeding Zuko got too confident. He already ate some fruits on the breakfast and felt well enough to convince Mr. Xaalo to add meat to his dinner-rice-portion.

“Suit yourself, Scarface. Don’t choke and don’t weep after your stomach protests again,” the noble said putting a few stripes of meat into his bowl.

Zuko scowled at him and stuffed his mouth with meat.

Later in the office when he was halfway through the pile of documents his insides twisted, leaving him curling on the chair, soft groans escaping his lips. Mr. Xaalo found him in this state when he came to give him more documents. Zuko looked at him with glassy eyes, bile in his throat, stones in the stomach.

“I – I’m fine,” Zuko groaned through clenched teeth. “I – I just need a minute.”

“Away from the papers,” ordered Mr. Xaalo, his tone resigned.

Zuko obediently turned away. “I’m fine… I just need a second,” he repeated weakly.

Zuko blinked and Mr. Xaalo was no longer behind the desk, he was in front of him, _reaching_ for him. Before Zuko could process anything he flinched automatically, almost falling off the chair. The nobble grabbed him by his elbow just in time to prevent it.

“Foolish sickly creature…” he sighed, pulling Zuko to his feet. Zuko tensed despite the cramps in his abdomen, the man had to be furious. Zuko was worthless for him in this state, unable to write, too weak to stomach damned food… “I am going to strangle you,” Zuko tried to yank away but the man gripped his elbow tighter, “if you puke your filthy guts on me! Move!”

“I won’t… I can work… ‘m fine,” panted Zuko.

“Just shut up,” growled Mr. Xaalo, then muttered something under his breath.

The man dragged him to the servants' room and pushed on the bed. Zuko didn’t move when the man stormed out. _Would he ever go back to normal?_ It wasn’t even that much… Why couldn’t he just don’t be a damned failure at everything he touched…

“In case you decide to spit your insides do it here,” said Mr. Xaalo pointing at the bucket he’d placed next to the bed. “I will save my _‘I told you so’_ if you won’t die in the next hour, brat. If you do… do it quietly, would you?”

Zuko lowered himself onto the mattress under the stern gaze of the noble.

“I just wanted to get better faster,” he whimpered, clenching his stomach.

“Boy…” sighed Mr. Xaalo, giving him a weighty look. “Healing is a long and nasty process.”

The man left the room without closing the door.

Zuko managed to stomach everything, after an hour of resting he went to the living room and heard harsh _‘I told you so’_ before coming back to work.

* * *

Zuko felt much better after spending several nights in bed. He hasn’t been sleeping well, nightmares and anxiety still plagued his head, but his body was doing better. Regular meals haven’t made him forget about hunger and constant emptiness in his stomach, but the pain eased a bit.

Also, Zuko really enjoyed coffee.

Mr. Xaalo drank it every breakfast, as a silent agreement Zuko got his own cup every morning as well. It wasn’t becoming an addiction – Moosha would probably disagree – it was just a habit, a stabile factor that calmed Zuko’s nerves. Drinking the bitter liquid and listening to Mr. Xaalo’s rancorous complaints wasn’t that bad until he realized how much time he’s wasted on it. He should’ve been working, the noble wouldn’t pay him, and it would be completely fair.

“Um… Mr. Xaalo…” said Zuko, after he quickly finished his morning portion of food, the cup of coffee steaming in front of him.

The man looked up at him from the book he was reading. “What?”

He didn’t want to refuse the drink – it was too good. “I should be working. Can I drink it in the office? I won’t spill it on papers,” he added.

Mr. Xaalo raised his eyebrow, sipping his own hot drink. “Sure,” the noble answered, an unsettling smirk creeping onto his lips.

After a second Zuko knew the reason behind the smile.

Moving with the full cup without spilling was doomed to failure. Zuko sometimes had troubles with balancing himself on his bad leg, the cup in his hand wasn’t helping but his dying pride wouldn’t survive turning back. Slowly he moved forward.

“Don’t run too fast,” Mr. Xaalo mocked him from behind.

If not his morning meditations he would have set the noble or his house on fire, his caustic comments were the best control lessons he’d ever experienced. The surface of the drink waved dangerously close to the cup’s edge but Zuko refused to spill a single drop…

Then he tripped over the rug.

The cup shattered into pieces. Zuko controlled his fall enough to avoid hitting the ground with his bad leg, instead, he slammed on his hip, groaning and cursing when a shallow cut on his palm started bleeding. _Fuck…_ Coffee was all over the floor and the cup was destroyed…

Zuko flinched and stumbled backward when the noble walked past him, with his own cup in his both shaking hands.

“That’s why you move around only with half of a cup, Lubber,” he leered, then he glared at Zuko and the mess on the floor.

Using the couch to support Zuko stood up. “I… sorry… I can clean it,” he panted, holding his hand so the blood wouldn’t stain the rug.

“Honestly, I doubt it… Take the bandages from the bathroom and patch yourself before you touch my documents.”

Zuko bowed, mumbled another apology, and disappeared before the noble could lose his temper. Eventually, the man would do it, all Zuko do was messing another simple fucking thing. At least the cut wasn’t on his dominant hand… He was surprised when he was summoned to dinner without any consequences, the food portion unchanged…

In the evening Zuko entered the kitchen and put his own decorated cup on the table.

Mr. Xaalo frowned. “Why did you put this ugly piece of pottery in front of me?”

Zuko blushed when he looked at colorful flowers painted on the side of the cup. “I – um… I’ve broken your cup and, um… I can’t exactly _pay_ you back… so, um… yeah…”

“Do I want to know how a street rat has a cup with fucking flowers painted on it?” asked the noble.

Zuko wanted to dig himself under the ground and never came back. _What was he even thinking?!_ Of fucking course, it would generate questions…

“…No?”

Mr. Xaalo shrugged. “I think so too, Pottery Boy.”

* * *

Wandering around the house was no longer forbidden for Zuko but from the experience, he felt nervous doing it. After the last meal, his working-time was finished, usually, he just went to the servants' room to meditate without a flame or do some light exercises.

Zuko didn’t like the free time – it was when his thoughts became too loud to ignore.

No matter what, Zuko didn’t want to get any closer to the basement, he preferred not to know if _the cage_ existed. All he knew about the upper floor was that Mr. Xaalo’s bedroom was there, Zuko hoped that the man wasn’t upstairs. He looked around the living room and quickly checked the kitchen but there were no signs of the noble. Then the warm light coming from the porch caught his eye.

Mr. Xaalo sat in the chair with his legs on the table, it was really not-noble behavior. He looked up from the book when he spotted Zuko, then decided that the book was more interesting.

“Ink is almost run out, um… there is only one bottle left,” said Zuko.

The only acknowledgment Zuko got was a nod. The ink issue wasn’t the only reason he came here but the noble seemed more irritated than usual. _Did he do something to annoy him today?_ He didn’t remember anything… it was a calm day. But Zuko was annoying in general, so maybe the man has had enough of him and…

“Did you came here to murder me?” asked the noble.

“ _What?!_ No! Why would I – “

“What a pity,” shrugged the noble and finally looked at Zuko. “So, if not murder why are you looming over me, brat?”

“I – no, nevermind. Sorry for the interruption, Sir,” mumbled Zuko.

“Do not move,” ordered the noble. Zuko froze in the middle of his retreat. “Say what you wanted to say, or you sleep outside.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t doing it before,” muttered Zuko, he heard some worse threats.

Mr. Xaalo smirked… He wasn’t supposed to hear that… Shit… “Or you sleep in the cage,” corrected the noble. “Did you do that before?”

_A prison cell wasn’t exactly a cage._

“No,” Zuko answered, he wasn’t entirely sure if the cage was a joke or not. He took a calming breath before speaking. “I wanted to ask if I could borrow a book.”

“What book?”

“The one I read…um… _then_. Or any other… If that wouldn’t be too much to ask, Sir.”

The man stood up and put his book under the armpit. “I thought you are only interested in foolish nonsense,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think you have any _foolish nonsense_ ,” snapped Zuko. “Um, sorry… I just want something to do when I don’t write.”

“And you aren’t a fan of sleeping?”

“…Not exactly.”

The noble gestured him to enter the house. Zuko thought he would get a scolding for daring to ask but instead, Mr. Xaalo picked the book from the shelf and handed it to him.

“A lamp and spark rocks are in the room,” the man informed. “Don’t get too smart. You won’t get a raise.”

“You aren’t paying me,” grumbled Zuko and limped to the room, hearing the man’s chuckle behind his back.

* * *

“You have the rest of the day off,” announced Mr. Xaalo when Zuko walked to the kitchen.

“I – what? Did I do something?”

The noble looked at him, raising his eyebrow, he even stopped chopping vegetables. _“Did you?”_

Zuko squirmed, toying with the bandage covering his hand. He’d been writing for the entire day, he’d finished another pile of papers, he hadn’t made any mistake… had he? Did Mr. Xaalo checked his work and found a mistake? _Shit…_ Zuko was so careful with copying the words…

Mr. Xaalo sighed. “If you did, please, don’t snitch on yourself… The guard is coming over for dinner.”

 _“What?!”_ snapped Zuko.

“Oh… I forgot I have to explain why I’m inviting people to _my_ house.”

“I… sorry, Sir,” he said, looking down. He didn’t come to his usual table spot. “Am I supposed to leave the house or – or can I stay in the servants' room?”

Mr. Xaalo put the chopped vegetables into the pot, then put it on the stove. Zuko thought that he was thinking about an answer but then the man put a bag of carrots on the table. “Chop it into small pieces, would you?”

Zuko had no idea what was going on – Mr. Xaalo had never before let him help in any preparations other than pouring drinks. Zuko supposed that it was because the man didn’t trust him not to steal his food. He sat in his usual spot and start chopping.

“I wouldn’t suppose you would be so indifferent about skipping a meal, Bones.”

“It’s your house, Sir, I won’t interrupt.”

“You are right… you will _participate_ ,” announced Mr. Xaalo.

 _“What?!”_ Zuko snapped again, Mr. Xaalo looked unimpressed after two sudden outbursts. “Why would you want _me_ here?”

“Huh…” The noble rubbed his chin. “Your self-worth level is truly inspiring, brat… You are here for a week and you’ve never asked. Why now?” asked Mr. Xaalo, he stopped doing cooking which meant he was actually interested in the answer.

“It’s not like you had an alternative,” Zuko said quietly.

Despite Zuko’s protests, it had been settled that he would dine with them. He wouldn’t mind eating with Mr. Xaalo alone – the noble was, for sure, confusing but not concerning. The guard already had a problem with Zuko, and they had barely seen each other… He couldn’t know who has bigger willpower here. If something goes wrong, if he fucks up… would Mr. Xaalo decide about consequences or the guard? Zuko finished chopping the carrots and all he could do now was tapping the table with his fingers. When the guard had been here, it looked like Mr. Xaalo had power, but he couldn’t be sure…

“Stop that tapping!” Mr. Xaalo snapped.

Zuko jumped, then clenched his fingers into fists and placed them firmly on the table. He flinched when Mr. Xaalo leaned on the table facing him directly. He couldn’t avert his head to hide the scar, his breath picked up.

“You are worst than usual,” stated Mr. Xaalo. “Do you know Gilo?”

“Who?”

“The guard.”

“No… I saw him only once,” said Zuko.

 _The interrogation_. Finally, it was here and Zuko was in the right state of mind to fuck it up _admirably_.

“So… you do not have a problem with him?” asked Mr. Xaalo, still looking him straight into the eyes. Zuko shook his head. “Do you have a criminal record?”

Zuko could hear his throbbing heart. “No.”

_“…No?”_

Zuko looked away from the noble's face, he couldn’t keep eye contact for a second longer. Mr. Xaalo finally stepped back and sat in the chair, leaving Zuko some space to breathe.

“Do you know that whipping is a punishment for petty crimes?”

Zuko stopped breathing. “I – I do not, Sir,” he panted.

“You sure?” asked the man, his arms crossed on his chest. “Show me your back then.”

Zuko blinked and he was back in the North Pole, in the cold, _alone_ … His breathing became ragged, he blinked again, and he was in the noble’s kitchen. His back suddenly too sensible, even if the wounds were mostly healed. He should be running but he couldn’t move.

“Snap out of it!” barked the man. Zuko blinked a couple of times squeezing his eyes to get rid of any remnants of the ice. Mr. Xaalo was looking at him calmly, his full attention on Zuko. “I do not care. It was just a bit harsh way to prove my point.”

Zuko joined his hands so they wouldn’t start trembling. “What – what point?”

“That you have a cold history with law enforcement. I do not care, kid. You can breathe,” said Mr. Xaalo, his tone uncharacteristically low.

Maybe it was naïve but Zuko believed, or rather, wanted to believe the man. After a couple of deep breaths, his heart stopped throbbing.

“I won’t tell Gilo about our _little adventure_ ,” stated Mr. Xaalo. “You will live through the dinner untouched.”

“Do – do I have to be on the dinner?” pleaded Zuko.

The noble nodded. “It will be good for you, brat, and I have some plans of my own.”

Zuko took a shaky breath and nodded, accepting his faith – whatever the noble planned he wasn’t in a position to disagree. He ruffled his hair and rubbed the cold sweat from his neck. Before Mr. Xaalo could continue preparing the food, Zuko asked one question more.

“Is the guard, um… Gilo, an earthbender?”

“No.”

_At least this was assuring…_

Zuko calmed himself as much as he could. When the meal was almost ready he heard a knocking. His eyes snapped open, gawking at Mr. Xaalo in panic. The nobble pointed at the door with the spoon he was holding.

“Let him in, Scarface. Don’t piss yourself on your way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so first of all I got weirdly anxious writing this last scene. It was a bit of a cliffhanger... I know, I know. But it's how it works here.
> 
> But hey! Before that, there were three shorter scenes! 
> 
> Give me your all feelings in the comments!! Predictions are always interesting to read as well as your various descriptions/analysis of Zuko and Xaalo!
> 
> I will try to keep my pace in writing! Comment to give me some fuel (it's scientifically proved it works that way)!!
> 
> ❤🖤❤


	15. Chapter 15

Trust was something that tended to backfire at Zuko every time he allowed himself to believe it existed. His hands were shaking when he reached to unlock the door.

The guard wore his full uniform and held a package under his armpit. Zuko opened the door just in time to see him smoothing the front of his jacket. “It’s wonderful to see you, Mr. Xaa – ” The guard frowned when he spotted Zuko. “Oh… it’s _you_.”

Zuko put his entire will to face the man with a raised chin and straighten back. The way he’s said ‘ _you’_ didn’t bode well… “Mr. Xaalo is in the kitchen,” he informed.

Zuko moved to the side to let the guard pass, this way he would avoid the men behind his back. The guard walked past him without sparing him another look, like he wasn’t worth the man’s attention. For Zuko, things could stay this way – the less attention the better. He closed the door and limped after the guard.

In the kitchen, Mr. Xaalo finished preparing the dinner. Today he’d cooked something meaty with green things sticking out of the seared crust, it smelled tasty. All Zuko could do was sniffing the scent, he knew he wasn’t allowed to eat such variated meals.

The guard put the package on the table. “It’s wonderful to see you Mr. Xaalo,” he said over-cheerfully, it was strange that he used exactly the same wording for a second time. “I’ve got a package for you, Sir.”

“Good. Anything else?” asked Mr. Xaalo without turning to the guard.

“Not yet, they said there is a delay, Sir.”

“Of course, there is always _a delay_ ,” growled Mr. Xaalo.

Zuko stayed in the kitchen door when the guard leaned over the table. He didn’t know what he should do, suddenly he became hyper-aware of his limbs, he tried to do something with his arms but every gesture he could think of seemed stupid.

The guard quickly glanced at Zuko, then turned to the noble. “So… Does the brat work as a servant as well?”

Mr. Xaalo has never treated him like a servant but maybe this was the point of attending the dinner… It would make sense. But the way the guard suggested it made Zuko’s inner flame shimmer.

The noble looked at Zuko’s awkward posture, then scowled at the guard. “No, _Gilo_ ,” he said the guard’s name deprecatingly. “He’s eating with us. I would be glad if you treat my scribe with respect.”

For a moment, the guard looked like he’s been slapped – the same as Zuko. Mr. Xaalo, the man who has been calling him many creative names for the past week, _scolded_ the guard for calling him brat... _What?!_ Mr. Xaalo glanced at Zuko, his lips twitched when he saw his expression.

The guard pretended that he hasn’t been rebuked and started talking about something that happened in the town. Zuko noticed that Mr. Xaalo wasn’t listening to him, he was focused on finishing his _tart_. Standing in the doorway became too awkward, Zuko carefully limped to the opposite side of the table, as far from the guard as possible without making it weird. When Mr. Xaalo’s was turned away from them, the guard side-eyed Zuko, which made his anxiety jump every time.

After Mr. Xaalo finished all preparations, it turned out that the men were usually dining in the living room. The guard put the heaviest dishes on a salver when Mr. Xaalo gathered the rest. Zuko’s stopped breathing when the guard glared at him.

“You won’t help?” implied the guard.

Zuko’s breath picked up after the sudden accusation. He has been useless and ungrateful, the noble had to be angry and –

“Gilo, are you serious?” Mr. Xaalo asked with a raised eyebrow. “He has a limp, telling him to carry hot things around would be idiotic.”

After this statement, Zuko had to stop panicking in order to _glare_ at the noble. He picked at his bandaged hand that has been injured after _carrying hot things around_. Mr. Xaalo noticed his glare and his lips twitched again.

“Um, yeah… right, I didn’t notice,” the guard shrugged, it was a lie. The man had been eyeing him when he’d hobbled to the table. “So, what happened to your leg?”

Zuko stiffed. “Accident.”

The guard stopped with the tray in his hands and look at Zuko’s limb. He was about to say something, probably ask about the accident, but Mr. Xaalo spoke first.

“Boy, would you take this,” He pointed at the package on the table, “to the office?”

Zuko exhaled in relief and took the package, it was lighter than he expected. After he left the bundle on the desk he stopped in the middle of the room. _What was Mr. Xaalo doing?_ Zuko had no idea. The sudden change didn’t put him at ease, changes were bad, he’d gotten used to the noble being harsh. Zuko couldn’t know how his newfound kindness would end.

Two men were sitting at the round table in the corner of the room, in the same spot where Zuko had seen them when his fate had been at the mercy of the noble. Zuko stopped, not sure if he was still wanted there, they could discuss him when he was away, and now –

“Come on,” Mr. Xaalo said, waving at him with a welcoming gesture.

Two chairs at the table were unoccupied and it looked that he was free to choose one of them. If he chose the one closer, his bad side would be turned to the guard; if he picked the one further, the noble would have a full view on it. Zuko limped past the first chair and sat with his scar turned to the noble.

The guard started pouring a red liquid into the glasses, he was about to fill Zuko’s glass when Mr. Xaalo covered it with his palm.

“Water for him, if you please,” said Mr. Xaalo.

The guard nodded and glanced at Zuko. “I’ve tried, lad… I know how eager bastards your age are to try something stronger. Good that Mr. Xaalo keeps you on the straight and narrow.”

“I doubt this particular young man is any like those bastards you are referring to,” said Mr. Xaalo, sipping his drink.

Despite himself, Zuko felt a blush climbing up his cheeks. He stared at Mr. Xaalo confused, but the man didn’t look like the praise was just a mockery. Zuko waited for the hidden joke to reveal, for both men to start laughing, for Mr. Xaalo to say what he really thought of him.

“And what’s the _young man’s_ name?” the guard asked

“Lee.”

From the corner of his eye, Zuko noticed the brief surprise on the noble’s face.

“I’m Gilo. The guards’ captain in the town.”

“I know,” answered Zuko.

“You do?”

“Mr. Xaalo mentioned.”

After hearing this a smug smile appeared on the guard’s face, he glanced at Mr. Xaalo, but the noble didn’t spare him a look, finding the books on the shelf nearby more interesting.

“So, Lee, how did you end up here?” asked the guard.

Zuko’s held his breath, he’s gotten used to Mr. Xaalo’s ignorance… it was a mistake. He had a cover story, but his pathetic lying skills could mess everything and –

“Gilo, keep your interrogations for your work-hours, would you?” said Mr. Xaalo before Zuko could start his ramble.

A flash of anger appeared on the guard’s face but then it was covered with a light smile. “Of course, Sir… You know how work influences a man, Mr. Xaalo,” he laughed.

“Indeed,” answered the noble without any enthusiasm.

Zuko didn't know what to do with his hands, so he couldn't be more relieved when after a few minutes of conversation between the two men they finally started eating. His portion was a little bigger than usual, but it was still plain rice with few fruit pieces placed on top. Zuko tried not to look at the other plates on the table and focus on chewing his rice.

“Delicious as always, Mr. Xaalo,” said the guard, then glanced at Zuko’s bowl. “Someone’s fussy… I can’t imagine how can anyone dislike Mr. Xaalo’s cuisine,” he scoffed.

Zuko peeked at Mr. Xaalo, checking if the noble would save him from answering again but the man only met his eyes with a challenging look. Zuko took a calming breath before turning to the guard.

“I’m not fussy. I can’t eat everything.”

“Why not? Are you ill or something?” the guard asked, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

Zuko clenched his fist under the table. “No. I wasn’t eating enough for a while.”

The guard chuckled. “So… shouldn’t you stuff your mouth with everything you find?”

Zuko looked down, he waited for Mr. Xaalo to mock him, to tell the story of his first night in the house but the man remained silent. Zuko looked at him puzzled but Mr. Xaalo didn’t even smirk.

Zuko recovered from the shock, he had to answer the guard. “You can’t do that after starving.”

“And how do _you_ know that?” the guard challenged.

“From _a book_ ,” Zuko said through clenched teeth, it sounded almost like a snarl.

The guard picked up the sudden shift in his tone and straightened his back. Zuko automatically pushed himself back in his chair, avoiding looking directly at the man but observing him for any sudden movements.

“Exactly… Good that you bring this up, Lee,” said Mr. Xaalo, the fake name sounding foreign on his tongue. Zuko snapped out of his dread when the guard stopped glaring at him. The noble sipped his drink and continued, “Finally, I found someone who enjoys my impressive collection. He picked up one of the more difficult ones.”

“Did he…” The guard side-eyed Zuko.

“Yes,” confirmed Mr. Xaalo, “pretty bright kid.”

Zuko turned to the noble with a slightly opened mouth, he looked for the signs of mocking, of joke hidden underneath… Mr. Xaalo met his eyes briefly, but his focus was on the guard. Zuko knew there was a trick somewhere where he couldn’t spot it… He _knew…_ But it didn’t change the way his chest became pleasantly heavier close to his heart, the way blush found the way onto his cheeks…

The manner in which he reacted to the fake praise was pathetic, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t look up, focusing on his clenched fist placed firmly on his lap. His heart throbbed too fast to call it normal, his mind was on the edge of freaking out either because of the hostile guard on his right or the perplexing noble on his left. The pleasant feeling around his heart shifted into squeezing at the base of his throat.

Two men finished the main course and picked some fruits and the tart. Zuko kept his hands under the table.

“I guess you can try to enjoy my tart, boy. It’s a real crime that you are here for a week without appreciating its taste.”

Zuko didn’t miss the double meaning but he was too focused on containing his inner turmoil to react. “Thank you, but um… I – I would prefer not to.” There was no way he could swallow anything right now.

“How can you refuse?” the guard groused. “I wouldn’t expect that a stripling from the streets could be so ungrateful.”

Zuko’s eyes widened when he looked at Mr. Xaalo. “Sorry… I – I didn’t mean it like – like that, I…um, just… I am grateful but I – “

“Hush,” Mr. Xaalo interrupted, he didn’t look angry. “I know what you mean, it’s good that you comply with your limits.” He held Zuko’s gaze for a moment, until he started breathing properly again, then turned to the guard. “I recommend that you cease expressing opinions on topics that do not concern you, _Gilo_.”

Zuko tensed after another rebuke not directed at him. The guard switched subject quickly and Mr. Xaalo allowed the tension to ease. Well, general tension at least… Zuko’s tension only increased, after some things Mr. Xaalo said through the conversation.

“… Lee’s the best scribe I had…”

“… finally, someone who shares my love for coffee…”

“…If I wouldn’t know the truth, I could easily mistake him for a nobility, such a polite young man…”

“… I’m fond of having him around…”

Zuko had squirmed after hearing every one of those. It seemed genuine and his stupid chest squeezed after every single praise that left the lips of the noble. Zuko was so tired of not understanding what was happening, he was so tired of the turmoil in his mind, he was so tired of denying that that praise made his heart twist every single time. He wasn’t sure he could take the moment when the whole mocking act would be finally revealed.

Maybe it would be better to allow himself to live in the denial for a few seconds… just to see how it was like.

The guard was another problem… He had been killing Zuko with his glare after every single nice thing Mr. Xaalo had said. Like it was Zuko’s fault that the noble played weird games that he couldn’t comprehend.

After some time, that felt like long hours, the tortures moved back to the kitchen. Mr. Xaalo offered to make something hot to drink and Zuko quietly asked for coffee, the guard did the same. Mr. Xaalo smirked and poured three cups of the dark liquid, Zuko stopped breathing when he noticed which cup the noble had chosen for himself.

The guard took a sip and tried to stop a grimace the bitterness caused. “Gorgeous cup Mr. Xaalo.”

“Thank you,” the noble said, tapping his fingers over the paintings.

“Is it a present from some lovely lady, Sir? It doesn’t seem in your ordinary style.”

Zuko and Mr. Xaalo choked on their drinks at the same moment; Zuko started coughing, Mr. Xaalo managed to avoid it. Gilo was looking at them confused and _angry._

“Indeed, Gilo, not my style but I really like it,” the noble chuckled, Zuko still tried to stop his ragged coughs. “It is a present from Lee.”

Hiding under the table seemed to be a very tempting option, Zuko felt his entire face covering in bright red blush… at least the guard was red as well.

The blessed moment of silence lasted until the guard’s face came to the normal colors. The man glanced at Zuko’s bandaged hand, then turned to Mr. Xaalo. “Lately we have a rising theft problem, especially among the youth… Small corporal punishments seem to work the best,” stated the guard, clearly looking right at Zuko’s hand.

Zuko placed the cup on the table to avoid spilling the drink when his hands started shaking. Mr. Xaalo followed the guard’s gaze, now both men were looking at Zuko’s hands. His lungs refused to let the air out…

“Is it what happened here?” the guard asked.

Previous amusement disappeared from the noble’s face. “Are you asking if I punished him for stealing by hurting his hand?”

“I always considered you a man with principles, Mr. Xaalo,” said the guard.

“A man with principles…” Mr. Xaalo repeated, his face unreadable for Zuko

“But also, a man with soft heart… ready to forgive – “

“ _Soft heart_ , you say?”

“Not many would turn a blind eye on this… Most would just call me to deal with the _problem_ ,” said the guard looking at Zuko.

Mr. Xaalo quickly glanced at him before turning his attention to the guard. Zuko’s hands were shaking, his mind screamed _run_ but his body refused to move.

The noble took a deep breath before speaking. “I appreciate you speak so fondly of my law enforcement abilities but please stop associating my scribe with a criminal. What happened to his hand is non of your business and you have no right to imply anything.”

The guard’s smug expression faded, replaced by a nervous half-smile. “Of course,… Just kidding…”

“I thought so… Your sense of humor always lacked the _humor_ part… I think we are finished here.”

“Yeah, right,” muttered the guard through clenched teeth. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Xaalo.”

“Not so fast… As a lawful man, I think that defamation like that requires an apology.”

The guard’s jaw tensed when he turned to the noble. “I apologize, Mr. Xaalo.”

“Not me,” Mr. Xaalo smiled viciously and nodded in Zuko’s direction, “him.”

Zuko snapped out of his shock and looked with wide eyes on Mr. Xaalo, the man stood with crossed arms observing the guard. Zuko realized he was the only one still sitting, he quickly jumped to his feet just in time the guard approached him.

“I shouldn’t have joked like that, boy,” he forced dishonest words through his throat. Zuko’s vision blurred when he felt a hand squeezing his shoulder. “I’m glad Mr. Xaalo found _an honest_ young man like you.”

“One word more and I will fail to hold off my tears, Gilo,” said the noble, his face as far from crying as it could be. “Come on, I will walk you to the door.”

Zuko finally breathed when he heard that the man left the house, he leaned on the table when sudden dizziness made the world swing. He focused on his breathing, ignoring everything that had happened and his surroundings.

“You didn’t piss yourself, Scarface. I’m impressed.”

_At least this came back to normal…_

“By the way… when you snarled ‘form a book’,” the noble laughed. “Perfect… Gilo almost exploded.”

“ _What_ … what was this all about?” asked Zuko.

Mr. Xaalo looked at the pile of dishes and headed to the living room, Zuko hesitantly limped after him. The man sat in his armchair and let out a loud groan.

“Gilo is a fucking bootlick. It’s amusing how he thinks I enjoy his company… once after too many glasses of wine, I took this too far and… _well_ , since then he thinks that if he’s going to pretend to be like me, I will give him my inheritance… _Fucking moron_ … He’s amusing on his own way but a minute too much and the headache stays for ages.”

Zuko didn’t understand a damn thing.

“But… why did you need me?”

“I knew that this fucking Toady would lose his shit with you around.”

_“… What?”_

The noble growled. “Boy… you are so oblivious. Look… random waif enters my house, steals my _soft heart_ , as he phrased it… He’s fucking jealous of you, brat.”

Some things became clearer…

Zuko’s head hurt and suddenly the tiredness from before wanted to smash him to the ground.

“There’s nothing to be jealous about,” he whispered, then looked up at the noble. “Can I go now?”

The man suddenly lost his previous amusement and frowned at Zuko, he tensed a little, expecting to be scolded for wanting to flee. Before the noble spoke, his face turned to the neutral expression, “Go ahead.”

* * *

The room was half-dim, lightened only by the small oil lamp at the table next to the bed. Zuko bent his legs close to his chest even if his thigh didn’t like the position, his arms looming over the book opened on a random page.

It has been fake… but had felt nice… and now it hurt.

His throat was squeezed, but differently from the times when he had been close to vomiting. After fighting the feeling for a minute, Zuko felt something wet on his cheeks and did nothing about it.

That was the feeling what he’d craved for his entire childhood. Even the fake one had felt nice… Zuko wondered how would it feel to experience it for real.

_Pathetic._

He didn’t deserve it, he hasn’t gained it… As a traitor, hiding somewhere in the middle of a dirt hole, pretending to be someone else to avoid the consequences he fucking deserved.

_What was he even thinking?!_

He has become a beggar…

He had been begging for food… now, he was begging for praise without even realizing it! _So pitiful_ … He had truly reached the bottom… When was the last time he’d actually planned or even thought about making things right?!

Stupid things the noble had said to complete his ploy left him unable to think properly… Maybe it would’ve been better if he had just stayed in this canyon –

The door to the room opened.

“Boy, I thought you – “

The noble fell silent when he spotted Zuko’s curled form. Suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts and realized that his face was wet from tears that have been streaming down for spirits knew how long…

Zuko quickly swabbed his face with his sleeve. “Yeah…” his voice cracked in the middle.

There was no way the noble hadn’t realize that he caught him in the middle of a pathetic breakdown. He has already taken disgusted mocking… now, it was a time to take the direct one.

Mr. Xaalo cleared his throat. “I guessed you wouldn’t be asleep, and I wondered if you would agree for some work after hours.”

Zuko looked at the window – it was way past midnight.

And again _… he didn’t understand a damn thing._

Zuko sniffed. “I – yes… I mean, that’s… um, fine,” he splattered. He swabbed his face again and sat on the bed with his feet touching the ground. “Um, am I – I supposed to, um… work on the documents… from the pile, in the office… I mean – “

“No, actually I would like you to write a letter for me,” said Mr. Xaalo, his voice weirdly low, or maybe it felt that way because of the late hours. “I will dictate it to you.”

“…Okay.”

Zuko awkwardly stood up from the bed and limped after the noble. They walked past the office, Zuko only half-aware of what was happening realized it when they stopped in front of the stairs

Mr. Xaalo noticed his confusion. “It’s easier to bring you upstairs… Come on, hobble up the stairs, boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always after posting I feel the urge to explaining my thought process that led the characters to act the way they did... But I will stop myself from this for now, YOU GO FIRST!! (I WON'T STOP MYSELF IN THE COMMENTS)  
> (I tearbended a little...)
> 
> I'm dying to know what you think about this one, it took me long to find the right way I wanted to put it in words I hope it worked :) 
> 
> Good, that I've started a new year with a _happy _chapter :D__
> 
> _  
> _ps Xaalo finally know his (fake) name... took him long enough_  
> _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed my profile pic in case anyone would be surprised in the comments 🖐

Walking up the stairs wasn’t as agonizing as it’d been a week ago, but the uneasy feeling stayed the same. After climbing halfway up, Zuko’s mind caught up with what was actually happening.

“Why not to the office?” Zuko asked hesitantly.

“As I said,” Mr. Xaalo turned to look at him. Zuko noticed small bags under his eyes, which only confirmed how late it was… “it’s easier to bring you up than to bring my things down… Unless you want to hobble a few more rounds?”

Zuko shook his head and climbed the last steps. He could really use some distraction right now and Mr. Xaalo was pretty distractive, especially in the unknown surroundings, in the middle of the night, with a weird task… At least he wouldn’t drown in his thoughts again. _How long had he sat like this?_ It was weak and pathetic and how –

“Don’t make a mess,” said Mr. Xaalo entering the last door on the left side of the corridor.

It was rather unlikely to make _more_ mess.

The room was quite big for a bedroom. On the one side, a huge half-made bed was covered in piles of various books, some of them had fallen on the floor. A collection of empty mugs on the bedside table was the only decorative thing in the room unless an unstable stack of paper next to the small sofa counted. Zuko looked at the other side and spotted more mugs and plates on a barely visible desk. He was impressed that the construction hasn’t collapsed yet…

Mr. Xaalo stopped next to the desk and took something from the middle of the creased paper volcano, the longer Zuko looked at it the more things he noticed… _How does this thing didn’t fall?_ The man sighed loudly and turned to the small sofa under the window, he placed a bottle of ink on the low table in front of it.

Zuko stood one step from the door, trying to comprehend the extreme difference between the noble’s serenity and this space. But in a weird way, this mess wasn’t overwhelming, it fit the sardonic man standing in front of him. Zuko knew better not to vocalize his thoughts…

“Don’t stand there like an idiot,” said Mr. Xaalo throwing a pillow on the floor next to the table. “I’m not going to unbury the desk right now… Get comfortable on the ground, brat, and don’t complain.”

“I wasn’t going to,” grumbled Zuko, his voice still a bit hoarser than usual.

He limped to the low table, it was the only un-covered in weird stacks flat space that he could write on. He crouched and carefully sat cross-legged on the floor, wincing for the first seconds when his leg had to adjust to the position. When Mr. Xaalo was turned around, Zuko once again wiped his eye, he felt how puffy it was, the light stinging indicated its red color. The room was lightened only by two lamps on the walls, there was a chance it wouldn’t be too visible.

Mr. Xaalo threw a white hanky on the table in front of Zuko. “No tears over my letters.”

Zuko tried to glare at the man but his red puffy eye wasn’t doing him any favor, he turned his head to hide the remarks of his pathetic weeps. He faced the man with his scarred side.

Mr. Xaalo sat on the sofa, piercing Zuko with his stern gaze. “Do you try to drown yourself in the liquid leaking out of your eye every night or this one is special?”

Zuko turned red. The man even noticed the fact that only his good eye could produce tears. “No.”

“No what?”

Zuko once again tried to glare at the man. “I’m not doing this every night.”

“So, it is a special occasion…” Mr. Xaalo leaned comfortably on the side of the sofa without taking his eyes off Zuko. “What are we celebrating? Your birthday? You could’ve told me, I would give you a bottle and – “

“It’s not my birthday!” Zuko fumed.

“Shut up, it’s the middle of the night if you haven’t noticed.”

Zuko wanted to yell louder, just in spite of the noble. He exhaled loudly, “Sorry.”

He leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head in his palms. It wasn’t his birthday… but he’d missed another anniversary. _The banishment_. Three full years had passed not so long ago… Zuko didn’t even realize…

“Are you weeping again?”

Before Zuko lifted his head to glare at the noble he wiped his eye – he couldn’t trust himself this night.

“No,” growled Zuko. Mr. Xaalo looked at him with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossed on his chest, his expression unreadable. Zuko squirmed under the gaze, staring at his clenched fists placed firmly on his lap. “I’m not weak,” he whispered, trying to convince himself that it was the truth.

“I didn’t say you are.”

Zuko didn’t look at him. “Don’t lie to me,” he said through clenched teeth, then raised his head to face the noble. “I know how it looks, all right?! And you said it many times! _I know it!_ But I’m not… or rather I try… I – ugh!” Zuko buried his face in his palms for a moment but Mr. Xaalo was looking at him with that fucking blank expression that made him talk more, “You said it and – “

Mr. Xaalo raised his palm and Zuko stopped talking. The man rested his elbows on his knees, this way his head was exactly on Zuko’s level, no longer looking at him from above. His sharp features softened in the dim light of the lamps. Zuko was careful not to let his inner turmoil take control over the flames. The noble’s gaze held him in place, he didn’t turn his face away.

“Boy…” the man sighed in his low tone he was using so rarely. “Fine, you have a point I did say that… but I don’t _think_ this way. You are a fucking wreck but you’re still standing, that’s not something a meek coward would do.”

Zuko’s mouth opened, his bottom lip trembling slightly. He was looking at the man with wide eyes, trying to see through his next ploy but the noble didn’t look away, didn’t even blink. For a second the man’s eyes looked _through_ him not _at_ him, like he disconnected from the present but Zuko wasn’t sure if he saw this for real or only the lights played tricks on him.

“So, could you pick up your self-esteem from that bottom you buried it in? Whatever misery is going on in your head won’t end just because a vile rich bastard told you it should, but it’s time to start gathering the pieces.”

Zuko’s head was buzzing but somehow it felt lighter than a second before. He felt a blush finding its way onto his cheeks. “I – I… thank you, Mr. Xaalo,” he mumbled looking down.

“Whatever, brat.” The man returned to his standard frown and stood up from the sofa. “My letter is waiting, and I need coffee.” He massaged his temples on his way to the door, when he reached it he turned to Zuko. “If I hear you rummaging through my stuff I’ll bring the poker with me. Got it?”

A weak smile forced its way on Zuko’s lips, he was almost sure it was only a joke. “Yes, Sir.”

Mr. Xaalo snorted and left the room.

_Not a meek coward._

Zuko loudly exhaled the air he was holding, the flames in the lamps responded and grew stronger – Zuko let them but only once. He missed firebending freely, without worrying about being spotted but it wasn’t time for that. Zuko’s head hurt and he didn’t want to think about… _about anything_.

The pile of crumpled sheets of paper next to the sofa wasn’t blank. Zuko didn’t want to touch anything but he could see few crooked characters and crossed out words. It looked that Mr. Xaalo had spent some time trying to scribble something by himself. The general chaos and so many abandoned drafts meant that it was rather not a business letter, but it couldn’t be private either if Mr. Xaalo let him write it.

There was something strange in this room. The books were the only personal belongings Zuko could find on display. No decorations, no paintings, no family photos that nobility was so devoted to. Unless something was buried beneath one of those piles the room was weirdly undecorated for someone so rich, so different from the rest of the house.

Zuko heard steps on the stairs and turned to the door, he trusted the noble a bit, but he wasn’t fine with people behind his back. _He definitely wasn’t_.

Mr. Xaalo opened the door with his elbow, in the one hand he held two mugs, in the other a plate with his weird cake on it. He stopped next to Zuko, the hand with mugs trembling harder than the other.

“Weeper, take the mugs,” Mr. Xaalo instructed, lowering the hand so Zuko could reach them from his sitting position. They were only half full, the same amount of liquid in both cups. He looked up at the noble, unsure of what he should do. Mr. Xaalo rolled his eyes, “One is for you, just put them on the table.”

Zuko gasped quietly when he had to reach out to place the noble’s mug on his side of the table. Mr. Xaalo’s put the plate with the cake on the edge and sat back on his previous spot.

The man pointed at Zuko’s bandaged hand. “Is the cut deep since you still wear this?”

“No, it’s fine.” Zuko put the hand back on his lap. “I didn’t want to stain the documents, um… or anything in general.”

Zuko observed as the man took a new sheet of paper from one of the drawers and put it in front of him. Then he unburied a few of his destroyed drafts and sat on the sofa releasing a loud groan.

Zuko took the brush and sat as comfortable as the cushion on the floor let him. “Um… am I supposed to write with my handwriting or… um, do I have to change it a bit?” Zuko asked uncertainly.

Mr. Xaalo smiled in a way that made Zuko hold his breath for a second. “Give me your best _fucking royal_ ,” Zuko tensed after this word but Mr. Xaalo was too absorbed in his vicious smile to notice, “ _calligraphy_ that you have. You want to make embellishments and flourishes? Do it. Don’t stop yourself, Scarface.”

“Um, yeah…” Zuko didn’t know the reason for this unexpected change but suddenly his _‘too perfect’_ handwriting might not be enough. “I will do my best, Sir.”

 _Which never was enough_ , was left unsaid.

“I’m sure of that,” said Mr. Xaalo, leaning comfortably on the sofa. “Start with… _Dear Toothpick_ – “

“What?”

“Scribes write, not talk,” growled the man. “ _Dear Toothpick_ …”

Zuko decided it was better not to ask and just write. Mr. Xaalo started with a medley of creative words that probably were supposed to infuriate the addresser. Then the noble dictated him a story that was as confusing as Uncle’s proverbs and didn’t make any sense. Somewhere in the middle of writing this gibber, Zuko stopped thinking about what he wrote, he just focused on making the characters as refined as he could.

“Stop for a moment.” Zuko snapped out of his focus and looked at the noble. “I’m hungry,” he said taking a piece of the cake. “If you are sure you won’t puke this, take a piece as well.”

For a few days, Zuko hasn’t been feeling nauseous at all, so he took a piece of this weird cake. He was ready to pretend that it was good, he was pretty sure Mr. Xaalo would beat him with the metal rod if he wouldn’t compliment the cake. But surprisingly Zuko didn’t have to pretend…

“It’s way better than I remember,” Zuko said, after chewing few bites.

The noble chuckled. “I don’t know how valuable is a compliment from someone who was ready to eat every scrap a week ago… But I appreciate, Bones.”

The ending of the letter was just as confusing as it’s beginning… Mr. Xaalo told him to write _‘stick your flower-fondness into your butt’_ … Zuko didn’t ask what was that about. It looked that Mr. Xaalo didn’t like flowers… but in the same Zuko had met him in the _florist shop_. In the end, Mr. Xaalo requested a few books and it was the only normal part of this whole letter.

“Show me this,” instructed Mr. Xaalo after Zuko finished the last word.

He handed the work to the noble and tensed when the man scanned it with his eyes.

“Brilliant, you write better than this bastard!” Mr. Xaalo smiled in the same vicious way as before. “Good job, boy. The fucking burned leaf will lose his all toothpicks when he sees it.”

_…What?_

Whatever that meant… Zuko’s body relaxed after the noble accepted his performance as sufficient.

“You are free to go, boy. Sleep to the midday, you look terrible.”

Zuko clenched his teeth while he was standing up from the floor. He felt really tired, but the sun was about to rise in less than an hour, he wouldn’t be able to get a lot of sleep.

“Doesn’t the letter need an address?” Zuko asked.

“No. This one does not.”

Zuko frowned hearing the changed tone but didn’t ask. Mr. Xaalo never asked him questions he wouldn’t want to answer, he would do the same. Zuko came back to the room feeling better than hours ago. At the moment his head touched the pillow he drifted off into dreamless sleep.

* * *

He managed to avoid overthinking for another two days after Mr. Xaalo changed his usual schedule. This time he was not only copying already existing documents and reports but additionally filling some orders. When he was doing this, the noble basically breathed on his neck but Zuko didn’t mind – those were his purchases after all.

Days were filled with work, so he didn’t have time to think; for the first two nights after his pathetic breakdown he managed to clear his mind enough to fall asleep.

On the third night his mind wandered to the blade he would never touch again.

_Never give up without a fight_.

Zuko’s fingers had traced the inscription on the cold blade numerous times. When he’d gotten the dagger and pretended to fight in the war; when he’d been laying alone in bed after long hours of training, without Mother around to tell him that he’d done enough and he could rest; when he’d been laying in the ship’s infirmary with infection swallowing his body, too weak to do anything; when he had almost lost hope that Avatar existed. Then he had been squeezing the handle in his fist every time the monk had slipped out of his grip. The last time he had traced his fingertips over the dagger had been before he’d jumped into the cold waters of the North.

Now, the dagger had to be somewhere in the ice city, with the other things that had been taken away from him.

He hadn’t given up under Master Pakku’s treatment but then his escape had failed; he hadn’t given up in the General Fong’s prison but then everything collapsed; he hadn’t given up on his life when he’d been craving every scrap of food he could get but he’d lost his dignity in the process.

Without an engraved reminder, not giving up had been becoming harder and harder.

He’d almost given up when every nerve in his body exploded with pain when he’d fallen into the canyon – he had been helped; he’d almost given up when the medicine had been in his hands, but stupid oversight enabled him to take it – he had been helped.

They had helped him, and they hadn’t wanted anything in return; they fought for him without realizing it, when he hadn’t got the strength to do it alone.

He hadn’t cared much when he’d decided to risk everything and trust the caustic nobleman. Now, he had a safe place to stay, food, clothes, and a daily dosage of harsh words that didn’t cut as deep as the ones he’d received when he was younger.

Living as _Lee_ was easier than living as _Zuko_.

Zuko was so tired of not giving up, his fight had been going on for three years…

Zuko has always been terrible at being a prince, so maybe it was better he wasn’t one any longer…

Zuko wasn’t that bad at being Lee, and being Lee was easier.

He wasn’t giving up – _not yet_ ; he was taking a break.

_A break._

This night his sleep was clear of any nightmares and he woke up with a light feeling in his chest.

_A break._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _yeahhh _*exhales*__
> 
> _  
> _This chapter made me tearbend (again). As always, tell me all your thoughts I would really appreciate them. This chapter had a quite interesting Zuko's change of mind -- > COMMENT what you think about his _break _.  
>  And of course, tell me what do you think about Xaalo's therapy session (is there some backstory between the lines???)___  
> _
> 
> _  
> _  
> _  
> _OH, and of course who is mysterious Xaa's friend, huh? Toothpick..._  
> _  
> _  
> _
> 
> __  
> _  
> _  
> _If you want to see memes for the last chapter they are on my Tumblr! I barely figured out how to use it but in case anyone wants something I'm pretty positive I do know how to use inbox 😅 Check out the memes that one person *wink* did! They are great!  
>  https://renegadeoftheworld.tumblr.com/_  
> _  
> _  
> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count is increasing but the reason for that are shorter chapters, lately, long ones don't want to cooperate with me.
> 
> Enjoy the read! :)

It’s been two weeks since Zuko had eavesdropped on Mr. Xaalo’s conversation and ended as his scribe. Two weeks with regular small meals, two weeks of sleeping in bed, two weeks spent on rewriting documents, and lately writing business notes under Mr. Xaalo’s close supervision. It’s been a week since he hadn’t felt sick after eating something more than rice. A week of being clean of most bruises and scratches, a week since he’d noticed that his ribs were slightly less visible. A few days since Zuko allowed himself to take a break from listening to the constant scolding in the back of his mind. The voice hasn’t disappeared but when it was becoming too loud Zuko thrown himself into the closest distraction he could find.

One evening when the servant’s room – sometimes Zuko slipped and thought of it as _his_ room – had been too quiet and his mind too loud he grabbed the book and headed to the living room. Mr. Xaalo was probably upstairs anyway… Zuko sat on the couch, put a book on his lap, and began reading through the chapter about muscles – he hoped to find something that could help him with his limp. After some time, he was laying on the couch, unable to truly focus on the words but still trying.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Xaalo asked, suddenly emerging from the hall.

Zuko got startled and immediately sit up straight, the book closed on his lap. “Sorry I, um… I was reading in the room but then…um, I thought… but if that’s… not okay… I will go. Sorry.”

Zuko couldn’t get into Mr. Xaalo’s blacklist. The man still hasn’t paid him a single coin since the night incident. Zuko was utterly on his mercy. There was no room for any mistake. He hoped he would eventually get paid when he proved himself useful.

Mr. Xaalo rolled his eyes. “I don’t care, boy. I came here for coffee, not for your exceptional speech skills,” he sighed, looking at Zuko’s tensed and ready to flee posture. The man pinned him with his look for a few seconds and rubbed his face. “If you look for a change of scenery there’s a bench on the porch. Don’t touch my chair,” the noble said, glaring at Zuko, his finger pointed right at his chest. Zuko swallowed anxiety and walked to the noble, fresh air could help him focus on the book. Mr. Xaalo glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, “Coffee?”

It had been the first but not the last evening he’d spent reading on the porch. Zuko almost hasn’t left the house for the past two weeks, it was a nice change. Also, the quiet sounds of the night, and Mr. Xaalo’s presence were distractive enough to help Zuko’s _break_ last longer.

The pile of documents that Mr. Xaalo has been preparing for him for each day was smaller with every passing day, so Zuko worked slower. He could easily finish it no so long after midday, he’d done that once and Mr. Xaalo hadn’t given him new documents for that day. Zuko needed something to do, smaller and smaller piles didn’t help him relax.

Mr. Xaalo summoned him for dinner just like usual, but something wasn’t right – the man smiled at him widely when he entered the kitchen. The noble was smirking, scoffing, glaring, deadpanning, mocking, and withering at him but never _smiling_ at him. The last time a change like this happened he’d been used as a pawn in ‘mocking the guard’ plan.

“What’s happening?” Zuko asked skeptically.

The noble was humming silently mixing the food in the pot. He turned to Zuko. “The dinner is happening, Scribe. What else?”

Zuko frowned. “But why are you… _oddly positive_ about it, Sir?”

If Zuko knew anything about the noble, it was the fact that the man wasn’t optimistic, his sense of humor was dark and always aimed at someone. The happiest Zuko has seen him was after the dinner with the guard, or when they met for the first time when the noble lampooned him. But it wasn’t genuine happiness like Uncle’s after Zuko had agreed to drink tea with him, it was more of a sarcastic reaction, never completely honest.

“Because I was sick of cooking rice for a corpse I’ve picked up from the street and now, finally, the corpse will eat like a human.”

“Really?” asked Zuko, childish excitement crept into his voice, his eyes fixed on the man.

Mr. Xaalo shrugged and turned away from him, resuming dinner preparations. The food always smelled good but Zuko knew better not to sniff the scent when he wasn’t allowed to taste it. “I guess so, brat,” the noble answered. “It depends on you.”

“Yes,” he said, too fast to hide the obvious excitement. Zuko no longer cared about the sudden shift in the noble’s mood. “I mean… um, thank you. I would like that.”

“I thought so,” the noble smirked, stirring in the pots.

Zuko sat on his spot observing the noble smoothly moving around the kitchen. He noticed how the man smartly avoided actions that could go wrong due to his shaking hands. His moves were well-practiced and natural… Zuko realized how much he missed his swords.

He didn’t know the dish Mr. Xaalo put in front of him – not that he cared, it looked _good_. He poured water into both glasses when Mr. Xaalo took care of the chopsticks. Finally, they both sat in front of this small fest.

“Don’t get too excited, Bones, I don’t want any mess on the table,” the noble said, the corner of his lips slightly raised upward.

Zuko nodded and took the first bite.

He knew that taste.

It was the taste of his childhood on Ember Island when Mom had taken him and Azula to food stands and buy them whatever they wanted. The same hot spice that made some people cry from the smallest inch when he could eat handfuls of it. Zuko closed his eyes and for a moment he was nine again…

For a moment he was back _home_.

“Huh…”

He wasn’t home. He wasn’t Zuko.

He was _Lee_ , in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. _Lee_ who shouldn’t have known the typical Fire Nation Spice…

Mr. Xaalo was glaring at him with furrowed brows and crossed arms, he didn’t touch his own portion. Zuko’s eyes widened, he dropped the chopsticks from his shaking hand. How could he be so stupid?! Everything collapsed because a small piece of home left him unable to think clearly. The noble hasn’t stopped glaring at him…

“It’s not – not like that…” he spattered.

Mr. Xaalo’s features weren’t kind, even when the man wore his neutral expression – now, it made Zuko’s blood ran cold. The noble didn’t look this angry when he’s found him sprawled on the bathroom floor, or after any other of his missteps.

The man raised his eyebrow. “Not like what, my dear fire brat?”

Zuko opened his lips trying to say something but… _what?_ He could barely keep his breathing even there was no chance for any believable lie.

“Not like,” the noble continued when it was clear that Zuko wouldn’t speak, “you are clearly familiar with the spice typical for the Fire Nation’s cuisine? So rare spice that it’s not available in their colonies?” Mr. Xaalo leaned in his chair without taking his eyes of Zuko. “I was right… you are from the Fire Nation,” he said with an unsettling smile.

Zuko considered fleeing right in this second… _but where_? Without anything to help him survive he would end just like a few weeks ago – as a beggar on the streets.

He hung his head. “I _was_ from the Fire Nation,” he said quietly. As much as Zuko wished it was a lie… it wasn’t. He was a traitor and disgrace with a bounty on his head.

“Right, past tense is quite obvious.”

Zuko closed his eyes in case they would show how much this sentence hurt. “Why?”

The noble sighed. “Really, Scarface? With that thing on your face, I doubt you would want to be back there.”

Zuko’s fingers traced the edge of his scar before he could stop the motion. He bit his tongue before he would say something stupid. _All he wanted was to be back home_. How could the noble be so certain saying otherwise, he didn’t know a thing about the scar – it was Zuko’s fault. The reason he couldn’t go back.

Zuko turned his head so the scar was hidden from the noble, for the first days he’d been doing this constantly but with time he’d stopped. “Don’t call me that,” he whispered venomously.

It was a stupid thing to ask for, but the nickname was a constant reminder… _about everything._

“Scarface?” asked the noble. Zuko glared at the man with his good eye. “Fine, it wasn’t very creative of me anyway… Your fire heritage gives me so many new possibilities,” he said with a smug smile.

“What’s going to happen now?” Zuko asked.

The noble raised his brow. “Seriously? I thought we went past this…” he sighed irritated. “I thought you were Fire Nation from the beginning, so you only proved that I was right.”

Zuko was looking for a trick but the noble’s face returned to a casual, slightly irritated expression. “But… you were angry.”

“Present tense – I am angry.” Zuko’s face had to show that he had no idea what was going on. Mr. Xaalo rolled his eyes. “I was waiting to play this trick for two weeks of your rice-eating, and when I finally did, you enjoy something that should set your mouth on fire. At least your culinary taste is above eating plain dirt scraps.”

Something wasn’t right… “How do you owe that spice, Sir?”

“Curious, aren’t we? How did you end in the Earth Kingdom?” Zuko tensed, his eyes widened after hearing the question he couldn’t answer. The cover story he had wouldn’t be enough in those circumstances. Mr. Xaalo laughed. “I thought so. No questions?”

“No questions,” Zuko repeated with relief.

“Brilliant. Are you eating or not?” Mr. Xaalo asked and took the first bite.

Zuko ate. The meal wasn’t a typical Fire Nation dish, rather the Earth Kingdom one with additional spice, it tasted weirdly good.

The closest thing to _home_ he could get.

* * *

Zuko’s shock passed the next morning.

“Why did you do that?!” he snapped when he entered the kitchen.

Mr. Xaalo’s shoulders jumped as if he laughed but he didn’t bother turning to Zuko. “Good morning to you too.”

“The first day I could eat something normal you wanted me to be sick again!” Zuko didn’t like the hurt tune in his anger but when he realized what Mr. Xaalo has done, or rather tried to, he felt betrayed. _“Why?”_ he asked, his voice so small.

The man finally turned, the ready portions of breakfast in his hands. He placed the food on the table and gestured Zuko to take his chair, but he refused, crossing his arms trying to do his best glare. Mr. Xaalo wasn’t impressed. 

“I wouldn’t do a hunger strike if I were you.”

“Why did you do that?” _I’ve trusted you_ , was left unsaid.

Mr. Xaalo sat in his chair, his previous amused face covered by his natural frown. “Boy, you are so dramatic… Take your fiery temper and sit on that fucking chair.”

Stomping with his bad leg was hard and painful but Zuko did best not to wince. He sat in the chair, his arms still crossed. “Why?” he growled.

“As a revenge.”

“What?”

Mr. Xaalo raised his brow. “Did you forgot how you plundered my kitchen?”

The old wave of shame came back to Zuko, when his mind wasn’t famished it felt worse. “No… I’m sorry.”

“Besides, you wouldn’t get back to being sick, if that’s what are you so angry about. Someone not familiar with the spice wouldn’t swallow a bite. The worst that could happen to you was a tongue burn that would pass after a few gulps of water. So, could you stop acting like I was trying to murder you?”

Zuko released the tension from his body and took a shaky breath. “Sorry. I – I just don’t want to… be back in that state.”

“I know, brat…” the noble sighed. “You can leave the Fire Nation, but the Fire Nation won’t leave you, eh?”

Zuko frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You Fire Bastards are as temperamental as we are stubborn,” Mr. Xaalo explained. “You are certainly quite fiery, but I can see local stubbornness as well.”

Zuko couldn’t deny it. Now, when the anger passed he only felt embarrassed for overreacting, he stared at his fidgeting fingers without touching the food.

“Breakfast isn’t today’s surprise, you can eat.”

“What is today’s surprise?” Zuko asked harshly, he didn’t like uncertain things, especially in this vulnerable state. He felt almost good with the routine of the past two weeks.

The noble sipped coffee from his mug before answering. “I need to go to town. You are going with me.”

Zuko stopped in the middle of taking the first bite when an anxious feeling squeezed his chest. With his luck, the trip to the town could end like a disaster. “Can’t I stay here?”

“No,” the noble said. “We may be past poker threats, but I won’t leave you in my house alone.” Zuko nodded. There was no point in trying persuasion, it was a miracle that he had any freedom at all. “We leave in an hour.”

Zuko tried to sound not as nervous as he was. “Yes, Mr. Xaalo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A trip to town! What can go wrong..?
> 
> Its official Xaalo doesn't give a fuck about the Fire Nation, Zuko is too confused to even think how confused he really is.
> 
> Comment what you think about what happened in this shorter one. Zuko, the god of assertiveness, finally spoke up about the Scarface think! Applause for him.
> 
> It's slowly going to the end _BUT _I've decided to write a short story about Xaalo (the Toothpick will be here) and a separate story about Iroh's whereabouts. No promises but the first part of Iroh may be posted alongside the next chapter of this one. I don't want you to miss it in the forest of ao3!__
> 
> _  
> _Remember to comment! I love them all! Tumblr is the same nick as there! See you in the comments :***!_  
>  _


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that "bonus" stories(Iroh and Xaalo) will be in separate collections to keep a nice order in the main Zuko's storyline. 
> 
> But I will announce it somehow if any of you would be interested to read this! I won't let you miss it :D

After an hour Mr. Xaalo hasn’t come down yet. Zuko sat on the couch fidgeting with his fingers, trying not to think about every bad outcome of the trip. It was all so stupid, it wasn’t like he could hide in that house forever, and it was only a trip to the town. It was strange enough that the noble didn’t go anywhere for the past two weeks. A couple of times a cleaning lady came by, but she never spotted him when he was in the office. Zuko felt safer when not too many people knew he was here.

He heard cracking of the stairs, then Mr. Xaalo finally came down with a bundle under his arm. He wore one of his casual outfits, which was still quite elegant and suitable for a noble but not over-the-top. Zuko’s robes were simple and a bit too large, nowhere close to the ones he’d used to wear, but good enough to mistake him for the Earth Kingdom’s middle class – the poor end of the spectrum though.

At this point, Zuko has encountered all conventional social statuses and a couple of bonus ones like prisoner or traitor. _Just great_.

“Come on, I’m not going to wait for you,” Mr. Xaalo said, even though he was the one who was late. Zuko growled under his breath and limped to the door after the noble. The staff was in the corner where he’d left it two weeks ago. He took it, tracing his fingerprints over the familiar smooth stone. “You still need this? Your limp improved.”

Zuko took the staff to his good arm, even though the shoulder wasn’t bothering him anymore he didn’t want to overload it while _walking_. Actually, it worked quite fine when he’d been trying some exercises to regain his strength. It couldn’t be said about his leg though…

“I’m still an _inept cripple_ ,” Zuko quoted the term he’d been called by the noble. He could walk without fear of stumbling, but the thigh was still tender to touch and his muscle felt different compared to the good leg.

The noble raised his eyebrow looking at Zuko. “You are promoted to an _adroit cripple_ ,” he stated, moving aside to let him through the door.

Zuko clenched his makeshift cane and went down the porch, it turned out to be almost painless. Mr. Xaalo closed the door, put the set of keys into his pocket, and they both moved through the garden. He’s chosen to walk on the right side of the noble, with the scar facing the man. He preferred to have a better look at the rest of his surroundings and this way he wouldn’t risk poking the noble by accident with his staff.

Zuko spotted the place by the stream where he’s been waiting for Mr. Xaalo two weeks ago. “Um… Can I stay by the stream, Sir?”

The noble sized him quickly with his gaze. “Are you too weak for a longer walk?”

“No, but – “

“Then the answer is no,” Mr. Xaalo interrupted him categorically. “You are antisocial enough, boy.”

Zuko glared at the noble. “You don’t talk with people either!” he growled.

“I chose not to involve with them too much,” Mr. Xaalo said, pointing his finger at Zuko with a smug smile on his face, “You simply don’t know how.”

“That’s not true!” Zuko barked.

The noble chuckled. Zuko hobbled after him in the town’s market direction. Technically, if he would be stubborn about staying here, Mr. Xaalo most likely wouldn’t drag him with force, but Zuko didn’t want to risk.

“Why do I have to go? Are you planning another ploy? I won’t be your pawn.”

Mr. Xaalo muttered some curses while rubbing his temple, then he sighed and looked at Zuko. “Listen, Fire Runaway… I’ve already told you that I didn’t want to leave you in the house alone.”

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko said, keeping his voice low.

“I won’t let you be picky about my nicknames after we let go of ‘ _Scarface’_. You are a Fire Runaway – “

Zuko took a deep breath. “I’ve had problems with being half-breed,” he confessed. “People aren’t as unconcerned as you are, Mr. Xaalo.”

Mr. Xaalo was strange… _he just didn’t care_. Also, he had a supply of typical Fire Nation’s spices in his cupboard and mysterious correspondence written in the middle of the night…

“Aren’t we alone here, Fire Blood?”

“Yeah, but – “

Mr. Xaalo sighed. “I bet you aren’t even eighteen! Could you relax for a second?” Zuko scowled at the man and tensed further. “I guess not… The Fire Nation is too strong in you. Maybe this will work.”

The noble throw a small sack into the air and Zuko caught it. He traced his fingers over the leather – it was full of coins. “What is it?”

“Half of your wage.”

Zuko eyed the man suspiciously. The sack was heavy, he was sure there was more money than half of the wage they had agreed on.

“With a raise and a bonus for the night assignment,” the noble clarified. “Five per day would be a robbery, I didn’t expect you to agree for that.”

 _Huh…_ Zuko wouldn’t expect to get the money at all – food and a place to live was already a lot.

The town from Zuko’s famished memories was different from the place they reached. The market was full of many different stalls surrounding the central square. Even side alleys were filled with people and many different shops. On the edge of the marketplace, Zuko recognized the florist shop but everything else…

“Umm… Mr. Xaalo?”

“Yes, brat?”

“I, um… I wasn’t quite all right back then but… I don’t remember this place,” Zuko said in a low tone.

“You came here one day after the last market-days,” the noble explained. They stopped at the edge of the area, Mr. Xaalo stood with crossed arms and a bored expression when Zuko looked from side to side, trying to recognize anything. “Some of the stalls are there only for some days. Today is one of these days. For the rest of the time, the town is almost lifeless.”

The place looked similar to the one where Zuko had met the _scrounging gang_. He could spot the poor folk gathering in the far corner, families with kids running from stall to stall, wealthy men strolling through the middle of the marketplace. It looked very much alive and the quiet chatter vibrating here wasn’t overwhelming when Zuko wasn’t in the center of it.

“Come on, Spice Lover, I will show you something.”

Zuko growled under his breath and checked if anyone wasn’t too close to hear the equivocal name. Mr. Xaalo laughed observing his nervous neck-twists, Zuko really wanted to hit him with his staff. _Of course,_ the noble chose to go through the middle… Everyone they passed by greeted Mr. Xaalo by his name, the noble only acknowledged them by a short nod, Zuko was met with curious glances. He lowered his head trying to stay as close to the noble as possible.

“Morning, Mr. Xaalo,” a low voice from the right said.

Mr. Xaalo stopped in the dammed middle of the marketplace and turned towards the voice. Zuko looked up… It was a guard but not Gilo… The man was bulky, tall, and way younger than Gilo. Zuko clenched his staff when his eyes followed to the man’s feet – they were bare. The guard was an earthbender.

“Morning,” Mr. Xaalo answered.

“Some new merchants put their stalls in the west corner if you would be interested,” the guard said, then he focused on Zuko. He took a small subconscious step back. “Who’s the young one?”

Zuko’s retreat was stopped by Mr. Xaalo’s gentle squeeze on his shoulder. He flinched and momently looked at the noble who was focused on the guard. “My overworked scribe, who I had to lure out of my house with force and bribe.”

The guard laughed lightly. “A hard-working young man, I see,” he said trying to catch eye contact with Zuko, but he was busy hiding his blush. He couldn’t turn away, Mr. Xaalo’s steady hand was keeping him in place. “In case of any problems feel free to call me. I’m Ho.”

The guard held out his hand to him. Zuko knew the gesture and, logically, he knew the guard didn’t mean to hurt but his past encounters with earthbenders made him stop breathing, his heart rate jumped… The squeeze on his shoulder snapped him out of illogical panic, Zuko glanced at Mr. Xaalo who nodded at the guard’s, still extended, hand. With another wave of panic Zuko finally properly looked at the guard. He expected the man to be angry after Zuko clearly disrespected him by ignoring his gesture, but Ho smiled at him warmly, his hand still waiting for Zuko’s move.

Zuko exhaled slowly and shook the man’s hand. “Um, hello… I’m Lee.”

Ho was about to say something else when Gilo almost ran towards them. This time, Zuko took two steps back and Mr. Xaalo didn’t stop him, his hand still lightly rested on his shoulder.

“Wonderful to see you, Mr. Xaalo! What’s – “

“Nice talking Ho,” Mr. Xaalo interrupted. “I’m afraid we can’t afford more chatter. Goodbye, Ho, Gilo,” he said, nodding to the guards.

“See you around, Mr. Xaalo, and you too, Lee!” waved Ho.

“Goodbye, Mr. Xaalo,” Gilo said through clenched teeth.

The noble basically turned Zuko by his shoulder and they continued their interrupted walk. The touch disappeared from Zuko’s arm as soon as they couldn’t hear the guard’s voices.

“Ho is all right, a little too enthusiastic for my taste but he means well,” Mr. Xaalo informed. “As long as you don’t fire nation around, you don’t have to be timid with him.”

 _“Fire nation around?”_ Zuko whispered aggressively.

“Plundering, burning, not shutting up about _‘showing the right way’_ , messing with others’ business… You get the idea?”

Zuko wanted to protest… He should have protested! Those were lies… _Lies_.

He tried not to think about the plundered village in the South and the scared family from the canyon… He tried not to think about Kyoshi Island burned by his own hands… He tried not to think about the catastrophe from the North Pole – it wasn’t right… Killing spirits wasn’t right…

The Fire Nation has made some mistakes – Zuko felt shivers running down his spine when he agreed with the traitorous thought created by his mind. He had been a prince, he could’ve helped his nation in achieving the goal the right way… Now, he couldn’t do anything.

And the traitorous statements weren’t as outrageous for him as they should be.

“I get the idea…” Zuko sighed, he hadn’t choked on the traitorous declaration as he should. Those thoughts were against his break rules, he needed a distraction… “Why everyone knows you by name?”

The noble shrugged. “I guess, it’s an unwritten rule to know and respect the richest bastard around.”

Finally, they reached the wooden stall in the corner of the marketplace. Zuko sniffed the sweet scent of things exposed in front of him, most of them he couldn’t recognize.

“What can I get for you, Mr. Xaalo,” the lady asked.

“Not for me, my scribe somehow never eat those,” the noble said. The lady looked at Zuko with pure disbelief, she couldn’t be much older than him. He tensed, knowing well what Mr. Xaalo was doing. _Of course, he never had those in the Fire Nation._

“Really?”

Zuko shook his head.

The girl handed him one of the round chocolate things on a stick, he took it with his free hand. “Um, thanks.”

“Be careful,” Mr. Xaalo said to the girl and handed her a coin. “Once he tastes it, he can come back and rob you.”

Zuko almost dropped the candy and glared at the noble, the lady only chuckled. “We have plenty of those, feel free to come for more,” she said to Zuko with a smile.

Zuko waited until they were out of the earshot.

“Why do you have to do this?!” he exclaimed, keeping his voice quiet.

“Keep the Fire Nation at bay, brat,” the noble laughed. “Stuff your mouth with the candy and stop complaining.”

They stopped in the quiet part of the market, Mr. Xaalo leaned nonchalantly over the wall when Zuko felt stupid standing there with a candy in his hand. He took a bite of the weird snack. It was a mix of chocolate, nuts, and something sweet on the inside. Zuko tried to chew it but the food became gummy and it stuck to his teeth. It took him a while to swallow the whole thing.

“And?” Mr. Xaalo asked.

“Not as good as fire flakes,” Zuko said carefully.

Zuko thought that he somehow crossed the line but then the noble shrugged. “Actually, you may have a point.”

_Why Zuko was even surprised?_

Of course, Mr. Xaalo had somehow tasted the fire nation snack. Zuko finished the other half of the sweet without bothering to ask questions.

“I’m going to complete some errands, we will meet there in an hour. Go wander around, maybe buy something? I don’t really care but don’t get too confident with food.”

Zuko didn’t like unknown situations, with unclear rules and many traps he could fall into. “I can go wherever I want?”

“Whatever… Just don’t run away and come back in an hour.”

“And the money is mine?”

“This is how _‘a job’_ works, Twerp,” Mr. Xaalo growled.

Zuko started fidgeting with the material of his shirt. “And…um, what if anyone will have a problem with me being here?”

Mr. Xaalo rubbed his face with his palm. “Boy, we marched together through the middle of the town. Nobody will bother you about your fake mixed origin when they know you work for me.”

Zuko nodded. It made sense, besides his fear was built mainly on that one experience from the canyon.

“Just don’t fire nation around,” said the noble and disappeared in one of the small backstreets.

* * *

The first thing Zuko bought was a bag, using his ragged sling wasn’t a good option. Then he got himself some grey fitting clothes. Mr. Xaalo gave him free access to his servants’ wardrobe but…

Zuko was preparing for the moment when this state of affairs would end. The noble already knew too much and things were going too well. Zuko enjoyed working for Mr. Xaalo – all things he’d ever enjoyed always came to an end.

In a more or less disastrous way.

“Oh! It’s you.”

Zuko turned, already prepared for an escape, but he saw no threat. The girl working in the florist shop was waving at him from the window. He didn’t notice that he walked to this part of the marketplace.

“Um… yes,” Zuko said awkwardly

“You look much better than two weeks ago,” the girl said. “So, you really work for Xaalo?”

“Yeah.”

The girl frowned. “Is he treating you good?”

“What do you mean?” frowned Zuko.

The girl looked sideways before answering. “No one he hired could stand working there for long… They were afraid that ferocious comments would change into something dangerous. I can’t imagine tiptoeing around him.”

“I… um, Mr. Xaalo is a good boss.” Now, after he got his payment Zuko hadn’t got any problem with declaring that. The noble had taken care of his meals, always told him exactly what he expected from his performance as a scribe, and most important – _Mr. Xaalo didn’t ask questions._ Zuko tried to give the girl an assuring smile but he’s been out of smiling-practice lately. “Nothing to worry about, thank you.”

He wanted to run away from this unwanted conversation, but the girl continued, “It’s just weird, don’t you think? Whoever I asked told me that he’d been living alone in that house for years… It’s extremely weird considering –“

“I’m sorry,” Zuko interrupted. “I – I really have to go… I have some things to buy and, um… Sorry.”

Zuko didn’t want to listen to town gossip about the man – it didn’t feel fair. Besides, he knew the nature of gossips.

After fast and awfully awkward goodbyes Zuko limped towards the opposite edge of the town. He still had some time, and he told the girl he had to buy something. She could be watching him, and he couldn’t raise any suspicions. He walked into the closest open shop.

It was an open construction looking like a huge tent with many desks covered with various items. Everything was here – weird kitchen accessories, stamps, strange furniture, outdated weapons… just everything. Zuko wondered if he could find any scroll in this mess, so he slowly started to search through the tables. The shop keeper traced his every step, which gave Zuko goosebumps and deprived him of the desire to continue searching after checking the third table. He hung his head low and left the stall in a hurry.

He tried to calm down. The shop keeper was afraid of robbery, he couldn’t know who he was… Zuko knew this much but it didn’t stop his heart from thumping. He had to find somewhere to calm down before he starts acting more suspiciously.

* * *

“The little shit stole something,” the captain stated.

Ho rolled his eyes.

For the past hour, the captain kept killing the poor boy with his glares. He couldn’t understand why he held such a grudge against some kid. The boy was just limping around the market without making any fuss and the captain tried to find something on him.

“The shopkeeper is a creep, he probably got startled by him, Captain,“ Ho said.

“He hid it in the bag.”

Ho rolled his eyes. “This stall is full of junk. Why would he steal something from there?”

The captain glared at him. “You will remember my words.”

Captain Gilo stormed through the marketplace to the boy.

Ho kept playing with his pebble, waiting for the moment when his grumpy boss would be humiliated by the mistake. Ho would make a bet that the scarred scribe didn’t steal anything. _Why would he?_ The local rich man had bought him candy! Ho was sure the boy hadn’t got any reason to steal right now… especially some useless junk from the creep.

The scribe had his back turned on the captain, he couldn’t see him coming.

The captain reached for the boy and grabbed him by his shoulder.

Ho expected a flinch. The kid undoubtfully has been through some shit… _Damn_ , he was scared to shake his hand earlier.

Ho didn’t expect _this_.

After the touch, things happened in a blink. The kid without turning around swung with his cane and hit directly in the captain’s nose. There was blood on the captain’s hands. The scribe looked petrified, still gripping his cane.

“Fuck,” he muttered and ran towards the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be really glad if you would comment on the whole chapter instead of just screaming at me for the cliffhanger.  
> Screams and comments are very welcome :))))  
> We are close to an end guys 😶😶
> 
> Also, no Iroh's story yet but it's highly possible I will post it this week.
> 
> Xaalo's story is still in my head but soon I will put it on paper. I've got my own ideas but I'm serious if there is anything you would like to know about the old kind man? 
> 
> Also (2), sorry for messing things for Zuko :c Gilo is an asshole it's his fault.
> 
> I would love to read what you think about this whole wonderful trip!!!
> 
> See you below!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, chapter count made a jump :)
> 
> You know what? Iroh's story exists --> _Looking For the Lost One ___  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882299/chapters/70853097
> 
> _  
> _Or just enter through my profile if you are interested :) Subscribe the background series if you don't want to miss future Xaalo's story!!_  
> _
> 
> _  
> _Ok, that's it now here's the chap!_  
> _

The subconscious reflex shocked Zuko, until now he’d thought that cowardice stripped him out of the instincts of a fighter he’d once owned. Normally, he wouldn’t attack without knowing who the target was, but Zuko was far from the right state of mind these days.

Zuko froze, looking with wide eyes at the guard he’d just assaulted, he should’ve been running when the man was in shock, but he just stood there like an idiot. The guard has a bloody massacre smeared all over his face, he was holding his nose, blood spilling through his fingers. The few seconds after the hit were quiet, either Gilo or Zuko didn’t register what had happened.

Then the frozen moment melted, and the guard looked at Zuko, his eyes watery and full of fury.

“You are fucking dead, Scum!”

Zuko barely stopped his fire – he couldn’t expose himself as a firebender.

Instead, he took the defensive stance, gripping his staff in front of him. The attack was an accident but now the guard looked at him like he was ready for the real fight.

Gilo had a small mallet attached to his belt but he hadn’t reached for it. He jumped at Zuko with his bloody fists, trying to grab the staff out of his hold. He stepped to the side avoiding the bigger clumsy man, his knee buckled a bit. He couldn’t rely on his agility as he’d used to, he hasn’t regained his full strength either.

“You little shit!” snarled the guard.

Zuko used the moment when the guard was wiping off the fresh blood from his face to check his surroundings – he was fucked. In his mild-panic after visiting the shop, he limped towards the dead end. Now, the guard stood on his way into the open area, it shouldn’t be hard to switch the sides – the man had a terrible footing and spatial orientation.

Zuko didn’t want to get into the offensive, other than being a jerk Gilo hasn’t got him any reasons to attack. He couldn’t just assault guards when all he was trying to do was to _blend in…_

“I – I didn’t mean to! Sorry,” Zuko wheezed desperately.

The guard tried to grab him by the fabric of his shirt, Zuko dodged in time and ducked into the open space. Now, his back was against the wall. The next move had to be crucial if he didn’t want to meet with the guard’s bloody fists. Zuko didn’t know that you can become so furious after a simple smack in the nose… he suspected that the guard’s ego had got the harder blow.

_Why did the man grab him?! He didn’t do anything!_

After two missed attempts the guard hasn’t learned anything, instead of reaching for the mallet or aiming at Zuko’s leg, he was still trying to grab him.

 _Anger was a blinding emotion_ – Zuko could see the irony, but he didn’t have time for thinking about it for too long.

Normally, he would roll over the ground, but he didn’t trust his body enough to perform the move. He blocked Gilo’s hand with his staff and lurched to the left. This time, even with the adrenaline shot, his leg buckled enough to make him lost his balance and got a hit into the arm. Zuko recovered quickly and adapted his defensive stance, putting less weight on the bad leg, the lack of cane was taking its toll.

“Stop that!” snarled Gilo, lunging at him.

Zuko hesitated before he smacked the guard’s hand with his staff, otherwise, he would have to doge on his bad side. Gilo hissed when the stone hit his fingers. Zuko took a couple of steps back, looking sideways for an escape route. The guard was fat, but Zuko was a cripple – simple ‘run as fast as you can’ wouldn’t have worked.

_Why did he have to fuck up everything? Things had been going well…_

From the corner of his eye, Zuko saw an alley with a pile of boxes just in front of it. He could knock over boxes, making it hard for Gilo to run after him.

Zuko blocked another blundering but strong punch and turned slightly towards the alley. After another blow, Zuko would use the staff as a cane and duck into the back street.

Zuko stopped breathing when something pinned his arms to his core, and he couldn’t move an inch. A body was tightly pressed to his back keeping him in place, forbidding for any move or chance to struggle. To get out of this hold he would need full strength and good footing, he had neither of them. A hand grabbed his wrist and twisted it to the point when he dropped the staff. His head was buzzing, breaths getting out of control… The person holding him managed to grab Zuko's both wrists and cross his arms in a strong hold, immobilizing him completely.

Zuko tried – and failed – to break the hold. “Get off me!” he panted, it’s been a long time since he’d been in a fight, and his stamina showed it.

“I’m not hurting you! Stop wriggling!” Zuko recognized the earthbender’s voice.

He couldn’t firebend… Maybe it would save him now, but the risk of exposing himself would be too high. Zuko preferred to deal with this stupid provoked assault and idiotic guard that hated him from the beginning than to deal with his actual problems.

 _He had been trying to enjoy his Agni-dammed break!_ Why did he have to put _Zuko_ into his _Lee_ life?!

Gilo smiled with blood on his teeth when he saw that Zuko was restrained. “You little shit,” he said, then he clenched his fist and Zuko knew what was about to happen before the hand was raised.

Zuko flinched when the fist was coming right towards his face and he couldn’t defend himself. _Just like in the Fong’s base…_ He turned his head bumping his temple into the earthbender’s chest and squeezed his eyes.

His body was yanked to the side and the incoming punch never landed.

“Fuck…” a pained his escaped lips of the man holding him. “Captain! Did you really want to punch a defenseless kid?! Spirits damn it…”

“Fucking brat broke my nose!” Gilo snarled, wiping the fresh blood.

“But if you didn’t notice I’m already holding him!” The earthbender couldn’t gesticulate while holding Zuko so instead he waggled with his body, it made his vision blurry for a second. “I can see you are furious, Captain, but we are guards, not tyrants!”

With his arms crossed like that, his ragged breaths didn’t give him enough air. Zuko was already at the doorsteps of panic, not getting enough air wasn’t helping. He tried not to struggle anymore, knowing that it would only make the guard’s hold stronger. Zuko tensed when the man’s body pressed harder against his back. It took him a second to realize that this way, his chest wasn’t as squeezed as before. The hold on his wrists stayed strong.

Gilo wiped fresh blood from his face and smoothed out his uniform. He pushed his chest forward avoiding Zuko’s stare, he looked somewhere above his head. “Cuff the offender.”

“You grabbed me first!” Zuko growled, he was ignored by both men.

“I don’t think it’s necessary –“

Gilo’s face matched the color of the blood. “He is charged with an officer assault and suspected of theft. Cuff the rat and march him to the lockup.” The guard touched his nose and hissed in pain, “ _Fuck…_ I will be there in a minute. Better get this brat to the cell before I get back, Ho.”

The man behind Zuko sighed quietly. “Yes, Captain.”

Gilo picked up Zuko’s staff from the ground and stomped away. Zuko wanted to protest, it was his only possession, only weapon, and _a stupid cane_ … But at this moment the bender behind him was a bigger problem.

He had to keep up his _Lee_ persona – he could deal with mild assault and made-up theft.

“Okay, Kid... He’s my boss, I have to do this. Don’t panic, it’s going to be fine,” the guard informed with a comforting voice – it did nothing to calm Zuko, for that matter. He forced himself to nod. Better not to antagonize the bender – he could escape with the fat guard around, he wouldn’t risk confrontation with the bender without being able to firebend. “I’m going to let go of your hand. Turn around to me.”

Zuko did as he was told, trying not to show how terrified he felt. The guard gave him a tensed smile and stuck out his hand. Zuko knew the gesture too well… He gripped his teeth and offered his wrist. His inner flame flickered dangerously under his skin responding to adrenaline pulsing in his body, but he stayed in control.

He would flee from their custody before any mention of a punishment… He was just waiting for a good moment… He couldn’t go through this nightmare all over again…

The guard put the stone cuffs on the fabric of Zuko’s shirt – at least his old scars wouldn’t reopen.

“I saw what happened, Kid,” said the guard, loosely gripping the stone around Zuko’s clenched fists. “I know you got startled and acted recklessly. Did you steal anything from that stall?” the guard asked.

“What?”

The guard nodded toward the stall with the creepy shopkeeper. “Captain went after you because he thought you stole something. Did you?”

Zuko wanted to yell at the guard that no matter what he would say no one’s going to believe him. It always ended this way…

“No,” he said, with the flattest voice he could muster. Suddenly, he felt too tired to keep his head up.

“Where is your boss?”

“Who?” Zuko raised his head again, without looking at the guard, his mind didn’t want to focus on the present moment. It kept jumping through memories… from one bad outcome to another.

“Mr. Xaalo. You were shopping together earlier,” the guard clarified. The man grabbed him by the elbow and nudged him to move. Zuko reluctantly took the first step, feeling off-balance without the cane. “You had pretty good moves there.”

Zuko glared at the man. Why was he acting like he wasn’t just marching him to jail? Did he know something?

“So where is Mr. Xaalo?” the guard asked when he realized he wouldn’t get any response.

“I don’t know,” Zuko muttered. The noble couldn’t know what Zuko did… He was pretty sure that smacking Gilo’s nose would count as ‘fire nation around’. The guard was looking at him, probably expecting a longer answer. Zuko swallowed, “I – he… went to do some errands. I – I don’t know where.”

The guard nodded, as they turned towards the side alley. “When were you supposed to meet, then?”

Zuko anxiously looked around the marketplace but found no sign of the noble, even though the hour had passed. For a change, he was glad the noble wasn’t punctual. The guard was leading him away from the center, so Mr. Xaalo wouldn’t spot… _this_. Zuko didn’t know what his reaction would be.

“Lee?” the guard inquired.

Zuko tensed. “Um… Now I guess.”

“Good, I will find him.”

Zuko scowled at the man a tripped when he stopped watching his steps. The awful wave of embarrassment washed over him when the guard changed his grip for the more supporting than restricting one.

Zuko focused on his feet again and cleared his throat, “What does he have to do with it?” Zuko didn’t want the noble to get affected by him.

The guard frowned. “He will get you out.”

Zuko smirked humorlessly. “Why would he?”

They got into the small building with a barred space and a small desk next to it. The only thing inside the microscopic cell was a stone bench connected to the wall. Ho removed the bag from Zuko’s shoulder and put it on the desk, then he opened the cell and gently pushed Zuko inside.

“The rich man likes you, kid,” the guard asserted and locked the cell. “I will try to be back as soon as I can, just don’t provoke the captain when he comes back.”

And then Zuko was alone.

Caught after one misdeed, accused of another…

It was nothing like the North Pole and Gilo was nothing like Pakku… but Zuko couldn’t get rid of the panic. He ignored the dull pulsing in his leg and started pacing around the small space, fidgeting with his cuffed hands.

He wanted to believe that Mr. Xaalo would really stand in his defense. If the Earth Kingdom has taught him anything, it was accepting help. Even though he didn’t really believe that the noble cared enough to stick his neck for Zuko, he decided to wait and not act too rapidly.

He felt stupid when he let himself hope.

Zuko sat on the stone bench and wait, trying to come up with a plan for the time when his naïve hopes would crash, and he would have to cope on his own again.

* * *

Ho loathed this entire situation.

He was sick of the ferocious behavior of Caption Gilo and his pointless rage directed at the teenager who just got his life together. He felt sick when he thought about the possible punishments that the captain could sentence, even though Lee didn’t deserve them. Ho saw the fight – Lee definitely had some experience in it, there was no doubt, but he stayed only in the defense. He felt sick when he recalled how down the boy look when he assured him that old Xaalo would help him like he thought it was just a hoax.

Ho rubbed the spot when the captain punched him and imagined how good would it feel to punch him back.

On the edge of the square, he spotted the nobleman leaning against some building, he was looking around, probably searching for his scribe. Ho hurried towards him when the man spotted his approach his eyes narrowed.

“What happened?” the noble demanded with a heavy sigh.

Ho briefed the nobleman about everything he’d seen, hoping he hadn’t misjudged the man’s attitude towards the young scribe.

* * *

Zuko wasn’t alone for long, after few minutes of sitting in silence, Gilo stormed to the building with Zuko’s staff in his hand. He had a bandage over his nose, bruises and swelling slowly forming under his eyes. Zuko had to hide a smirk. He remembered the time when he was a kid and Master Piandao had been introducing him to staff techniques, if not the circumstances the blow itself was flawless.

He put on his best scowl and observed the man as he approached the desk, he put the staff far from the bars, and start rummaging through Zuko’s bag.

“Let’s see what you stole, _Scribe_ ,” Gilo put a lot of venom into the last word, but Zuko stayed unimpressed.

“Nothing,” he answered numbly.

The fact that the man was touching his possession made his inner flame burn brighter, it’s been a long time since he could call anything truly _his_. But when he spotted a bandage over the guard's finger he somehow felt a little better.

“What’s that?” asked the guard, holding his sack of coins. “You not only stole from the stall but from Mr. Xaalo as well?”

Zuko ignored the false accusation, there was no point in letting his temper control the interrogation – it never worked. He focused on tracing his thumb over the stone on his wrists. “What is left form a half of my wage after I bought the bag and clothes.”

Gilo tossed the money in his uninjured hand. “Try again with a better lie. I won’t believe that you get this much for your chicken scratches.”

Zuko was glad there was no open flame in the room.

“It’s called _calligraphy_ ,” Zuko retorted, glaring at the man. “You could earn this much as well if only you could write… _Sir_.”

“You insolent brat!” the guard berated putting the money back to Zuko’s bag. “I’m curious if you will keep up this attitude while facing the punishment for assault, huh?”

There were a lot of men that scared Zuko – Father, Pakku, Fong, even damned Zhao had got his moments… Gilo was nothing compared to them. As a last resort, Zuko could show him his _real attitude_. A week ago, he’d been scared of the man… not anymore. If the spirits wanted to end his damned break today, Zuko would take care to throw few fire fists close to Gilo.

“I’ve asked you a question!”

“Wait and you will find out,” Zuko answer with a steady voice, hardened by annoyance boiling inside of him.

He was tired of being constantly scared, anger was easier, anger could muffle fear. At this point, he was sure his break would end today in flames. He rested his bound hands on his knees and take his breathing under control, enjoying the last peaceful moments. Without any idea what to do next…

“You little – “

The guard was interrupted by the opening door.

“Little what, _Gilo_?” Mr. Xaalo asked stepping into the building. Zuko had to blink twice to be sure that he wasn’t hallucinating the noble entering the place as he owned it. The noble briefly glanced at Zuko and focused on Gilo. “I’ve already told you to treat my scribe with respect.”

Zuko caught short eye contact with the other guard standing beside Mr. Xaalo, the man was smiling at him.

“Your scribe broke my nose and my finger!” fumed Gilo, then added, “Sir.”

“Oh, you are right Gilo,” Mr. Xaalo smirked. “Brag about the fact that after you provoked the malnourished teen with a limp, you ended with broken bones. Go ahead, I’m listening.”

Gilo’s face turned red. “I – I didn’t provoke him! This lad fucking attacked me and he’s going to be punished for it! ”

Mr. Xaalo crossed his arms casually leaning against the bars. “He attacked you… How am I alive after those two dreadful weeks…” The noble rubbed his temple and turned towards Zuko. “Lee, why did you _attacked_ this poor man’s nose? Give me other reason than it poking into other’s business, we already know that.”

 _What was happening?_ Mr. Xaalo was defending him without even witnessing the incident… _Why?_

“I – I…um… I didn’t know it was him… He grabbed me from behind and…um it just – just happened.”

“Did he have a reason to grab you? Were you,” the noble smirked at him, Zuko know what he was about to say… _Were you fire nationing around?_ Zuko scowled him, “doing something that’s against the law?”

“No.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Gilo fumed, hitting his desk with a clenched fist. “The brat can’t attack people just because they grabbed him!”

“Why did you grab him in the first place?” Mr. Xaalo asked and didn’t wait for the answer. He nonchalantly pointed his finger at the guard. “To intimidate the kid? Your ego is seriously not doing good, Gilo…”

Gilo turned redder than he already was, the earthbender had to cover his mouth to muffle a smirk. “He was acting suspicious,” Gilo persisted.

Mr. Xaalo turned towards the earthbender. Zuko could see that the noble was enjoying this whole situation. “Tell me, Ho, what was so suspicious that it required an intervention?” Mr. Xaalo asked.

The earthbender shrugged and scratched his head, he glanced briefly at Zuko and then at his captain. “Um… nothing really,” he answered unsurely. “The kid seemed stressed after leaving one of the stalls.”

Gilo waved his good hand in Zuko’s direction. “Because he stole something!”

“That’s not true!” Zuko almost yelled, barely keeping hot steam from escaping his mouth. “You checked my stupid bag and found nothing!”

Mr. Xaalo took a few dramatic steps walking alongside the wall opposite to the bars. This building was too small for four people. Zuko could hear heavy breaths of Gilo on his right, the earthbender toying with a pebble with his shoe, and his own blood pulsing in his ears. The noble was composed, analyzing both Gilo and Zuko with his sharp eyes.

The noble flippantly pointed at Gilo. “So, you decided that jumping from behind on a scared kid is a good idea?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Zuko scowled at the noble for calling him scared, even though it was true. “You clearly have a personal problem with him, you’ve already shown it at the dinner.”

Gilo stomped to the bars, it made Zuko tense and stood up to be further from the man. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Mr. Xaalo giving him a warning glare.

“He only pretends to be harmless and innocent!” Gilo exclaimed. “A minute before you walked in he was all mouthy! It’s just his plan to fool you, Sir!!”

Mr. Xaalo had to cover his mouth to stop a loud sneer. “He was mouthy from the very beginning of his employment and I’m glad he has guts to tell you to fuck off when necessary. Try some other accusation.”

Gilo was panting, unable to breathe through his broken nose. He tried to say something once but quickly decided against it.

Mr. Xaalo smirked at Gilo, who was looking somewhere on the ground, then with his neutral expression turned to the earthbender. “You would make a good captain, Ho.”

“Thank you, Sir,” the earthbender nodded, blushing slightly.

“Now, Gilo, would you release my scribe since you are still the captain here?” Zuko noticed the threat hidden between the lines. “Or do I have to report your abuse of power?”

Gilo looked puzzled at Mr. Xaalo. “What?”

“You tried to punch Lee when he was already restrained by Ho.” Mr. Xaalo glanced briefly at the earthbender, keeping his focus on Gilo. The guard clenched his teeth to the point when the veins on his neck and forehead were visible. “Release my scribe. Now.”

After a moment of dead silence, Gilo nodded at the earthbender.

With a smile on his face, the guard who locked him here took off the cuffs. This time Zuko’s hands didn’t tremble when the bender approached him.

Mr. Xaalo waited for him when Ho was giving him back his belongings.

The noble helped him.

_He really did._

* * *

The noble was unusually quiet when they were heading to the house.

It made Zuko more scared than he was back in the cell. Mr. Xaalo was just walking next to him, his pace slow enough for Zuko to keep up without any problems. He should mock him for getting caught, or yell at him for causing troubles, or lecture him after getting into a fight, or question him why did he know how to fight…

Zuko couldn’t understand why the man helped him and now was giving him a silent treatment worse than scolding.

_Changes were bad…_

What they got to the porch Zuko couldn’t take this anymore.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?!” Zuko yelled.

“Keep your voice down, Fire Nation,” the noble answered but there was no usual spite in it, the words were numb.

_Another change…_

Zuko looked with wide eyes at the noble. They stopped just before the porch. The man sighed and rubbed his face when he noticed Zuko’s expression.

Suddenly, Zuko preferred silence to whatever he was about to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was such a wild thing to write... I pretty much enjoyed the fight scene witch is weird, to be honest
> 
> Ho ended as lawful good, I guess? Gilo is a shit (I would love to hear you scream about him)
> 
> Zuko just wants to have his break... But do you see any signs of healing? I guess I do, he was sassy again which is good I guess. Even though he was totally planning to burn this place to the ground if not Xaalo...
> 
> Xaalo. Mr. Confusing Man ---> I would love to hear what you think about Mr. I Own This Place 😆
> 
> ...and yes the ending probably is a cliffhanger. I know I know. But chapter count is up, so we are even and I want my payment in comments 🤣
> 
> PS. Iroh's story! (just a beginning, it won't outrun events form here) (it has treason go there)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, the chapter count jumped again...

It never ended well but Zuko started raving before Mr. Xaalo could open his mouth and inform him about the consequences.

Zuko did not miss the taste of disappointing people.

“I didn’t steal! The shop keeper… he was just glaring at me as I did, but I didn’t… And then I – I um, I thought he might have a problem… like, um… an ethnic problem, and I panicked. I know it’s stupid, all right?! I wanted a second to – to calm down…” Zuko blushed, when he spoke this out loud it sounded pathetic. “I’m just fucked up like this! I hate it, but I am… Um, and then… I didn’t know I would do this. I – I…“

Zuko gripped the staff with his both palms, mostly because he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He refused to properly look at the noble. The man already knew too many aggravating things about him without adding newly recovered fighting skills to the official list.

Mr. Xaalo sighed. “Boy – “

Zuko didn’t want to hear what the man had been thinking so he spoke again. Even though he knew he was just buying time. The inevitable would come, nonetheless.

“I didn’t want this to continue but he acted like he wanted to murder me… He hates me! I don’t know why, but he does… Not like it is something new… I…”

Zuko felt a lump in his throat. Until now he thought it was because of the banishment – he deserved all the hate that was aimed at him after the forsaken Agni Kai. But now… There was no Agni Kai, no treason, no chain of failures attached to him wherever he went… He was just a scribe with sufficient skills and it still happened.

It looked like he was just easy to hate.

Zuko cleared his throat afraid of a crack that could disturb his shaky voice. “I tried to stay only in the defense but – but then he… I mean with this leg, ugh… I wanted to run but I couldn’t, and he got close… I didn’t know… His finger… it was an accident… And then the earthbender …”

Mr. Xaalo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Boy…”

“I didn’t want to get you into this mess… I swear!”

Zuko rested his forehead against the stuff and took a deep breath. When he looked up, the noble stood in the same spot, his face unreadable, no smirk, no amusement that had been there when Zuko tried to explain himself after the kitchen raid.

_More changes…_

“The guard say you would help me… I – I didn’t ask about it! I’m sorry, he just went to find you and I couldn’t do anything. And – and you told me to stay out of troubles… I’m sorry, I didn’t actually believe you would come… I mean…thank you and – and I’m sorry – “

“Fire Nation, just shut up – ”

“It won’t happen again I – I swear!” Zuko interrupted again, he wasn’t ready for this to end. Those two weeks was the most peaceful time he had in years. “I – I’m glad that I’m not in jail but – but I… I don’t want to…” Zuko looked down at his feet, afraid of the noble’s reaction.

He wasn’t ready to face his responsibilities again, for adding new failures to his collection… He wasn’t giving up but the time after the siege was merciless. All that he asked for was for the break to last a little longer.

Zuko wouldn’t get up after another fall.

“Please… don’t get rid of me yet,” he murmured.

His fingers had gone numb from gripping the staff in an iron hold. He didn’t know what else he could add to his pathetic monologue. Zuko turned away from the noble and rubbed his eyes, even though they weren’t wet. His mind felt drained, only dull buzzing echoing in his skull after all pleads that left his mouth.

All he got by this speech was a new wave of shame to drown in.

Zuko relaxed his fingers, let his shoulders release the tension, and hung his head. “No… this is pathetic. Just forget it… I will… I will go,” he said numbly, taking a pained step towards the stairs, he didn’t use the staff for support. The pain was a good distraction.

He heard a loud sight.

“You are so much like this mongrel outcast,” the noble sighed wistfully. “Don’t you dare to break my nose,” he warned and touched Zuko’s shoulder, not letting him go down the stairs. “I wasn’t going to throw you out and I enjoyed telling Gilo to fuck off.”

The pressure on his shoulder was nagging him to turn around but he stubbornly focused his gaze on the stream. “Don’t hoax me,” he growled through clenched teeth. “You never shut up, you never let the occasion to mock me slip and this got you plenty opportunities! You didn’t say a word and –“

“I’m not used to apologizing.”

Zuko turned over his shoulder. “What?”

“Exactly what you heard.”

Mr. Xaalo waited until Zuko met his eyes before he released his shoulder as if without any connection between them Zuko would flee. The noble let his arms loosely hang at his sides, not crossed like many times before. Zuko felt trapped by his gaze, suddenly self-conscious of his own tensed body, he put more weight on his bad leg to stay grounded.

He blinked and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

When the eye contact was broken, the light hold on his shoulder returned. To his own surprise, he didn’t flinch.

“Your self-deprecating monologues get better and better but what happened is mainly my fault.” _How could it?_ Zuko’s confusion had to show on his face because Mr. Xaalo sighed loudly, the corner of his lips twitched. “You aren’t dumb, but I’ve never seen someone more oblivious than you, Nose Breaker. Can we finish _the drama_ inside?”

Zuko was too stunned to answer but he let Mr. Xaalo guide him inside. When the noble was closing the door Zuko automatically put the staff in the corner without really thinking about it. He didn’t move though… He had no idea what the noble expected from him, but at least he wasn’t kicked out.

“Take it if you need it,” the noble said, then noticed a new layer of Zuko’s confusion. It was _another change_ … “I don’t want to demote you back to the inept cripple status after your little fight, I can sacrifice my floorboards.”

Zuko didn’t reach for the cane. His muscle was trembling a little more than usual, but it wasn’t stabbing-kind of pain. “It’s fine,” he said honestly, the leg seemed overworked, but he doubted the damage increased.

“Go to your usual after-breaking-the-law spot, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Without further questions, Zuko limped towards the living room and sat on the couch. The noble wanted to apologize to him? _Why?_ It was Zuko’s fault that he couldn’t leave the shop without freaking out… and Master Piandao’s fault that he knew how to break bones with a staff, and Gilo’s in general… _But Mr. Xaalo’s?_

The noble came back with two half-full mugs of coffee and a bottle under his arm. When he opened the bottle Zuko immediately recognized the scent of the same alcohol the noble had drunk after his first night in the house. He poured the liquor into one of the mugs.

“I won’t give you any alcohol… you are mumbling while you are sober,” he said, closing the bottle. Zuko shrugged and took the other cup, it wasn’t like he wanted to drink alcohol in the first place. “Any injuries?” the noble asked, sipping his drink.

Zuko shook his head. The bruise on his arm couldn’t be count as an injury.

The man sat in his chair with a drink in his hand… this whole situation was so similar to the one from two weeks ago. But this time there was no withering aimed at Zuko, only a casual frown.

Mr. Xaalo took a long sip of his drink before fully focusing on Zuko. “I’m glad and surprised that you actually waited for me to deal with this. Even though you didn’t believe I would, which hurts my _soft heart_ ,” the noble said it in a way that even Zuko could recognize as sarcastic.

He scowled at the man, which granted him a half-hearted smirk, then he looked down. “What else could I do?”

The noble shrugged .“Honestly, I expected to see the station in flames.”

Firstly, Zuko stopped breathing. The only thing he could hear was his heart pumping the blood faster and faster. His eyes went wide, he didn’t dare to move. _Shit, shit, shit…_ He was careful to meditate only with closed doors and a small flame. How did the man find out?! He was screwed… _he was dead_.

Then, from not breathing at all he switched to short, ragged intakes of air. Neither he nor Mr. Xaalo moved. “How… how did you know?” he asked in an undertone, the inner flame twisting inside of him.

For a dreadful moment, Mr. Xaalo sat still as a statue.

Then, he burst out laughing.

He almost spilled his drink when his shoulders started shaking, he barely managed to put the cup on the table. “It was just one of my fire-related remarks,” he explained, rubbing his eye, a smile not a sneer glued to his face. “But I see it hit home. Answering your question… I didn’t know, you just told me.”

Zuko hide his face in his palms and pulled on his short hair, he tried not to scream. He has never lost control of the flame itself, he was mercilessly suffocating it in his body, allowing only small manipulations of already existing flames… It wasn’t healthy for benders. And now, he gave it away with his stupid traitorous tongue…

“I don’t really care…” Zuko looked up at the man, he was relaxed, unafraid, he wasn’t acting like someone sane… Zuko has learned how other nations reacted to firebenders and this man just sat there as nothing had happened. Fully relaxed. Sipping his damned drink. “Though… you could’ve mentioned this earlier… I would’ve saved on spark rocks.” Mr. Xaalo raised his eyebrow looking at Zuko, he put his drink back on the table “Come on, Fire Nation, show me something.”

“…What?”

“Something small, I like my house, not on fire.”

“You… you want me to – to firebend?” Zuko asked unendearingly, his dread swallowed by confusion.

Mr. Xaalo nodded, paying attention to Zuko’s face, not his hands placed firmly on his lap. “Before you ask… It’s not a trick, neither Earth Kingdom nor Fire Nation military is waiting behind the window, or any other ploy you could think of.”

Before Zuko could change his mind and do something stupid – _or rather more stupid_ – he cupped his hands on his lap, took a deep breath, and felt his restless chi-paths warming him from the inside. With an exhale a small yellow flame appeared in his hands. It’s been a long time since Zuko held fire, he hasn’t realized he missed the warmth so much.

“Huh,” the noble snorted, “Were you bending through those last weeks?” he asked, then clarified, “It’s not a trap question.”

Zuko let the flame shimmer on his lap when he studied the noble. “I – um… I’ve done some breathing exercises with a lamp…um, I – I’ve never done anything with my own fire.”

“Shouldn’t benders bend regularly?”

Zuko’s fire grew to match his irritation, the noble didn’t even flinch. “We should! But any other normal man would kill me without a second thought! People here hate firebenders! Why are you,” Zuko gesticulated which made his single flame divide, “like _this_?! Why are you acting like I couldn’t just burn you and your whole house?!”

Zuko knew that firebending was perfect for causing damage – his face was the best proof. It was unforgiving and powerful, the harm done couldn’t be reversed. It was a perfect tool for _teaching lessons_ … From the very beginning of the exile, Zuko has been learning that other nations feared fire just as much as he’d weeks after the injury. It was Uncle who showed him the way back…

“A moment ago, you were pleading me to let you stay, so I’m pretty sure you don’t plan to burn my house. You came here barely alive, Fire Nation… Forgive me that I’m not fearful in front of you, _oh great firebender_ …” Zuko scowled at the man, still holding the steady flame in his palms. “It’s not hard to see that you aren’t resorting to violence, Scribe.”

Zuko let the flame die in his hands. “It has never mattered before,” he muttered.

“Play with your sparks if you want,” Mr. Xaalo said and sighed loudly before continuing, “Back to why today was my fault… Better focus, I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Mr. Xaalo not only ignored his firebending, but he ignored it to apologize… Zuko wondered if maybe the candy he’d eaten earlier was drugged. He lit a small flame in his palm to have something to focus on.

“I was getting under Gilo’s skin using you, it was the best entertainment I had in years… I haven’t thought that his anger would be directed at you. Through the dinner, I could control everything, and I haven’t expected him to go this far… _fucking toady_.”

Zuko let the small flame jump from one finger to another, following its move with his gaze.

“From the beginning I knew you were jumpy, then I learned that you are not a fan of guards. I haven’t thought of further consequences aimed at you. I am sorry for that.” Zuko gawked at the noble, small flame waving around his fingers. “But if only you would've listened to me and stay by the stream nothing would happen –”

 _“WHAT?!”_ Zuko snapped. His flame burst in his palm and Zuko felt warmness licking his chin before he managed to reduce it. _Of course_ , the noble hasn’t even flinched. “I wanted to stay by the stream!”

“I don’t recall that, Fire Nation…” the noble taunted with a smug expression. “You were so stubborn about the trip… I couldn’t refuse – “

Zuko’s flame grew again, this time, he didn’t snuff it immediately. The noble didn’t care.

Mr. Xaalo pointed at the fireplace. “Cool trick but make it useful, would you?”

Zuko voiced his irritation with a growl and threw a small fireball into the fireplace. It set alight instantly. The noble looked at the fire for a second then turned his attention towards his drink. He took a sip and winced. “My dear Fire Scribe, would you heat this for me? Don’t burn me in the process and I will think of a raise for your extraordinary abilities.”

Zuko put on his best glare and reached for the fucking cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOBODY EXPECTED MY DEAR XAALO TO BE ABLE TO FEEL GUILT, HUH?  
> Be proud. I resolved the cliffhanger in a positive way and didn't give you another one immediately........
> 
> Zuko withering monologue 2.0 happened he gets better and better. Xaalo is not having fun anymore his inner therapist is screaming. I would love to hear your thoughts about my two stars.
> 
> And I think it was such a _Zuko way _to reveal himself as a firebender...__
> 
> _  
> _I guess it will have 21 chapters but who really knows... PLEASE COMMENT and enjoy this story for at least another chap!!!_  
>  _


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count jumped!  
> (I guess I'm doing this subconsciously)  
> (not that I'm complaining)
> 
> Enjoy!

Zuko was timid the first morning after the accidental firebending reveal and everything that had happened. He was ready to walk on completely new ground, again, wary of every new step and boundary. He was kicking himself for the slip of the tongue but on the other hand… he felt lighter.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Zuko had come to a rather shocking conclusion. Mr. Xaalo had met him as a Lee but now, after those two intensive weeks, he almost knew him – he almost knew Zuko. The noble – more or less – knew that he couldn’t come back home, that he was a firebender, the noble had seen his breaking point and heard his pathetic pleads, the man didn’t mind when his temper was showing. Mr. Xaalo wasn’t stupid. He had to know or at least suspect more things about him, but he hadn’t asked… Agni bless him for that.

In the middle of the night Zuko dared to think that if Mr. Xaalo knew the full truth, nothing would change. Or maybe the realization about housing a fugitive ex-prince would be enough to shock the odd man. Honestly, Zuko doubted that.

He stepped to the kitchen and found Mr. Xaalo preparing green dip that the man already ate for breakfast a couple of times. It hurt to watch the man dipping small sandwiches, bits of cheese, and fruits in the sauce when Zuko was stuck with his plain rice and an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

“Fire Source, would you boil the water?” Mr. Xaalo asked without looking up from his preparations. Zuko growled under his breath and shuffled towards the stove. “Also, when you are already warmed up, lit the candles, it’s cloudy today.”

“I don’t need a warm-up,” mumbled Zuko, quiet enough that the noble didn’t hear that.

He hovered his hand above the stove and hesitated. Firstly, he glanced at the windows and doors, found nothing, and checked again. Then he peeked at the noble who was openly watching him, waiting. Zuko swallowed the anxious feeling and with an exhale the flame appeared.

Zuko missed his bending but threats of General Fong never fully get out of his head. Besides, he wasn’t stupid, he knew that being discovered as a bender here in his current state would be a death sentence. Zuko had enough of these over his head.

“Candles, brat,” the man hinted grouchily.

Zuko sighed and limped to the candelabrum. He lit every wick with only a few sparks, enough to catch a flame, from the distance it would look as if he’d used spark rocks. He put on his grumpy scowl and sat at the table, in the meantime Mr. Xaalo prepared coffee and they began eating. The breakfast was as good as Zuko suspected.

“Do you have any unfinished papers in the office?” Mr. Xaalo asked.

Zuko had to think for a moment, he wasn’t in the office yesterday. “Umm… One folder, Sir.”

“Good,” the man nodded, gesturing at Zuko to pass him one of the plates. Before he did that, he took few melon pieces and put it on his plate, which granted him a scowl from the noble. Zuko bite the fruit and returned the glare. Mr. Xaalo rolled his eyes and left some melon on the plate returned to Zuko. “Finish that folder and you are free for the rest of the day.”

Zuko stopped chewing. “Why?”

“Because I said so,” the man retorted. “I will pay you normally, Fire Nation. I didn’t have time to prepare something new.”

Zuko nodded and looked down. He could say it wasn’t only about the money, more about having something to do, about feeling useful… He stayed quiet for the rest of the breakfast.

Mr. Xaalo took a sip of his drink and winced. “I like it better warmer, would you?” he asked, handing Zuko the cup. With a growl, he took the stupid cup into his palms. “Pretty handy trick.”

Zuko shrugged, focusing on manipulating the heat around his fingers. “I guess…”

“Ho, the earthbending guard, will come soon,” informed the noble. The drink in Zuko’s hands started boiling. “Stop evaporating good coffee! I’m warning you now, to avoid any arsons.”

Zuko cooled the drink with great effort. “Why?”

“It’s connected to yesterday’s events but nothing you should worry about, Fire Nation… Just keep the fire contained.”

Zuko put the cup back on the table. “I can control my bending,” he growled and noticed how the man’s eyes stayed on the left side of his face longer than usual. Zuko didn’t look away, he glared at the man, daring him to make another comment…

Mr. Xaalo only shrugged and took his re-warmed cup. “I can feel it,” he said tasting the coffee. “Perfect temperature, Heater.”

* * *

The piles of paperwork started to get smaller, so Zuko’s free time increased. He’d become a fire provider as if the noble didn’t have a shelf full of spark rocks… He was openly grumpy about that which granted him Mr. Xaalo’s smirks and muffled chuckles. But secretly he was glad for bending opportunities even though he was looking over his shoulder and at the windows every time before summoning a flame. Small fire manipulations were better than nothing.

One afternoon Zuko found himself sitting on the bench on the porch, his legs bend close to his chest, soft pillow supporting his back. He has been trying to read his way through the afternoon, but he couldn’t focus, his thoughts tend to wander away after every sentence. Zuko didn’t like the unpleasant feeling in his chest, especially because he couldn’t figure out why it was there.

He was in the best physical state since his ship exploded which was… _months ago_. Even the damned leg was doing better. When the muscle stopped shaking and pulsing after the fight it felt stronger than before. It wasn’t a big difference – Zuko was still visibly limping, and wouldn’t succeed moving around with a full cup without spilling… But standing up had become slightly more balanced, and a first step wasn’t painful to the point of wincing. Now, gritted teeth were enough.

His family wouldn’t agree but slow progress was better than nothing.

Despite all _the progress_ the heavy feeling still lingered in his chest every time when he had a moment for himself. Well… he was dead for everyone he’s ever known, and he had no chances of regaining his honor… How could he catch the Avatar without anyone’s help? The child was way more powerful than Zuko and he had the prodigy waterbender on his side, even Boomerang and his stupid plans had been stopping Zuko in the past when he had had help.

Zuko wouldn’t ever come back home.

It was the first time he admitted it straight-forward and the feeling in his chest didn’t change. The realization had to stash in his subconsciousness for some time.

Zuko released a loud sight and rested his chin on the bench backrest. He was far from happy, but he wasn’t as miserable as he should be. When he had something to keep his mind busy he was enjoying the routine, good meals, even the noble’s company… It looked like the man –

The earthbending guard emerged from the corner and now he was heading straight to the porch. The man jumped a little when he noticed Zuko, he was in the middle of adapting fighting stance but then lowered his hands, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth.

“Damn… you were here for the whole time?” Zuko nodded, his heart beating slightly faster than it should. The guard shrugged. “I guess I’m getting old… My perceptivity used to be good.”

Zuko didn’t know what he should answer to that. The guard was casually leaning over the column, looking at him. “Mr. Xaalo should be in the office,” Zuko informed, trying to sound relaxed even though his whole curled body was tensed.

The guard nodded and didn’t move, he looked around before he focused his gaze back on Zuko. “Nice weather, huh?”

“Um…yes, I guess… Sir.”

The guard pointed at the book laying on the table next to Zuko. “What are you reading?

“A book.”

The guard cracked a smile. “A book about…” he prompted.

“It’s um… it’s about medical stuff.”

“Woah! That’s nice kid,” the guard cheered. “I hope that things will change and they going to teach children more advanced things… I try to catch up, but my skull is thicker than it was years back.”

Zuko croaked his head. “Catch up?” he asked, knowing that asking was a dangerous thing to do but he didn’t understand. He recalled Mr. Xaalo complaining about people’s literacy but what was the reason?

“I’m from a poor family,” the guard answered lightly, no shame hidden in the statement. “Most of the lads like me didn’t have much of proper schooling. Just basics. Some try to catch up later if they can… Others just cope without the skill, it’s not really that useful for the common folk.”

The perspective of living without being able to read was abstract for him but apparently many people lived like this. It felt unfair that lack of money deprived children of such a basic skill. Zuko wondered how it looked for the poor in the Fire Nation…

“What’s up with the leg? Permanent of is it healing?”

“Healing… I hope,” muttered Zuko.

“That’s awesome, Lee!” the guard grinned at him. Zuko frowned but the man seemed unbothered by his lack of enthusiasm. “I’ve seen you have some fighting experience –“

“I – I don’t have… I mean…” Zuko couldn’t think of a good lie when the guard saw the fight. “It’s just –“

The guard chuckled, looking at Zuko with an amused expression. “Don’t be so modest. I’ve seen you know how to wield that cane of yours. My point is that we could train together after your leg is healed.”

“What?” Zuko dumbfounded. “Um… But you are an earthbender, Sir.”

“Sure I am.”

“I’m not,” Zuko said carefully. Now, it was the guard’s turn to frown. “I mean… I couldn’t do much against bending… The staff is made of stone, and I’m not even good with it, and – “

“I wouldn’t bend,” the guard clarified with a wide smile glued to his face. “I’m talking about hand-to-hand or weapons, but you would certainly kick my ass in the second one. But no pressure, of course! I’m just laying the proposition on the table.”

It was the first time Zuko met another bender than himself interested in non-bending fighting techniques. He’d picked up the swords because he’d been a useless bender, and thanks to Master Piandao he’d become more confident with steel than with flames.

“Yeah… I’ll keep that in mind, Sir,” Zuko answered, trying to sound polite and not dismissing. In fact, he would love to spar, he really missed training, but he wasn’t yet so insane to voluntarily put himself in a fight with an earthbender. But Zuko was losing his sanity pretty fast so maybe in few weeks…

“For now, focus on regaining your strength, kiddo,” the man smiled. Zuko barely stopped himself from scowling at him, he was sick of people remaindering him how weak he was. “I heard that Mr. Xaalo’s food is pretty insane, so it shouldn’t be too hard to put on some weight, huh?”

Zuko hasn’t noticed when it happened but he wasn’t longer tensed and on the edge of panic. His legs were still close to his chest, but his arms were loosely rested over his knees. He was fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve, but his hands didn’t shake.

“It is very good,” Zuko admitted.

The front door swung open.

“I’m truly touched, Scribe,” Mr. Xaalo said. The man stood next to the guard and now they both were looking at Zuko. He felt a blush climbing up his cheeks. “He’s still a bit gaunt but believe me, Ho, he’s on a good way to became tubby.”

The guard chuckled and Zuko openly glared at the noble.

“About tubby assholes…” Mr. Xaalo sighed. “Ho, would you mind discussing our matters on a way to the hawkery?”

“Suits for me,” the guard shrugged and stepped down the stairs.

Zuko tensed, observing the noble. Some days ago, Mr. Xaalo hadn’t allowed him to stay in the house unsupervised and after his last trip to the town, Zuko didn’t want to risk.

“House is all yours, Scribe,” the noble informed after noticing Zuko’s sudden twitchiness. “Just don’t set in on fire before I’m back,” he winked and went after the guard, who unwarily chuckled.

When Zuko was sure the men couldn’t hear him, he growled loudly and laid flat on the bench, looking at the wooden ceiling seemed like an interesting activity. He had ten minutes of peace before his thoughts started to wander.

_Again._

* * *

“I finished,” Zuko announced stepping into the living room where the noble was reading his book. It wasn’t even midday and Zuko had no idea what to do next.

“Good,” the noble nodded without looking at him. “Could you light the fireplace?”

He was so eager to do _anything_ that he only rolled his eyes, no growls or too loud sights, and limped to the fireplace. Checking all windows before bending became a habit, the noble of course noticed it and rolled his eyes. Zuko scowled at him and threw a small fireball towards the woodpile.

“Could you give me something else to do?” Zuko asked, standing right in front of Mr. Xaalo’s chair.

“I don’t have more papers for today, boy,” the noble said, turning lazily a page of his book.

“Not papers then,” Zuko insisted. “Something else.”

Mr. Xaalo sighed, closed his book, and looked at Zuko with his analytical gaze. It has been always making him self-conscious, he crossed his arms over his chest to avoid fidgeting with the material.

“There is nothing you could do in the house and I won’t send you to the city. I guess you wouldn’t want to go either…” Mr. Xaalo pinched the bridge of his nose looking around the room. “I don’t know, maybe pick some other book? Write your own fictional nonsense? Paint something? You are a nightmare when you are bored.”

“I’m not bored,” Zuko snapped. “I don’t want any entertainment, I need something to do… _Anything_.”

Zuko was restless. His pathetic reading attempts weren’t working as a distraction from his exhausting thoughts. Anything he could think of was only making him more wretched and frustrated. When he was ordered to do something, he could take a break from overthinking. He was free of his remorse for not feeling as bad as he should.

“Would you want to play with fire?”

Zuko was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Something more demanding than being a walking spark rock.”

“I can’t… Someone might see me. I’m not going to risk.”

Zuko didn’t like the smile that appeared on Mr. Xaalo’s face. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen this specific expression, but it was clear that the noble got an idea. Normally, Zuko would stay as far from the man’s ideas as possible, but right now he was pretty desperate.

The noble stood up from his chair. “After me,” he ordered. The man walked towards the room occupied by Zuko, then further into the corridor, past the bathroom and closet. “There is a possibility that you will choke from dust, but other than that I see no bad sides.”

Mr. Xaalo took a set of keys from the hook next to the barely visible doors. He started testing keys in the lock, looking for the right one.

Zuko suddenly realized what must’ve been behind the door. “I am not going to the basement,” he declared, taking a small step back. The basement was way too similar to a prison cell for Zuko’s liking.

“Seriously?” Mr. Xaalo stared at him with a raised eyebrow, the man finally found the right key that clicked in the lock. “Do you really believe that I have a cage in there?”

“No.”

In fact, Zuko considered the possibility and preferred not to risk. He wasn’t eager to step into a small space, under the ground, without any daylight.

Mr. Xaalo snorted. “Sure, you don’t… I will go first and leave you the key if that makes you feel better. Come on, Craven.”

Zuko stayed in place. “But why do you want me to go there?”

The man leaned on the basement door frame. “From my experience, I know that restless people with a weird hobby of swinging things around are more manageable when they are tired. You like to hit people with your cane, and you clearly know how to do it… So, I assumed you would like to play with your fire a little more than lighting the stove. Am I correct?”

Zuko frowned and nodded.

“The basement is made of stone, which means nothing is flammable. Also, no windows, so you won’t have to worry about your paranoia.”

“I’m not paranoic,” muttered Zuko.

The man put on a fake serious expression. “Of course, you are not,” he mocked. “Are you coming, Fire Nation?” Zuko bit his lip and nodded – he couldn’t miss the first opportunity to bend in weeks. The noble reached somewhere into the darkness and handed Zuko a small torch. “Would you?”

Zuko ignited the torch and slowly followed the noble downstairs. The man lit two more torches and put them in holds on the walls. The room was bigger than Zuko expected, the claustrophobic feeling was there, but it wasn’t suffocating. There was much more space than in any of his cells.

Mr. Xaalo handed him the keys. “The small, rusty one,” he informed, pointing at the key. “I misplaced the spare set, so keep an eye on it. It’s only to soothe your _not-paranoia_. Don’t close the door from the inside.”

Zuko put the keys into his pocket. “So… you mean I can bend here? You know it can leave some marks? Is that ok? Or do I have to keep it contained… I can do that or – ”

It was hard to hide the excitement, Zuko felt how his inner flame grew hotter, his muscles craving the familiar moves.

“I don’t mind artistic ash-paintings,” the noble said. “As you can see I’m not using this space.”

When Zuko wasn’t trying to tame it, the flames on the walls responded to his excitement with a flicker. The noble glanced at the shimmering torches and said nothing.

Zuko nervously peeked at the noble. “I – um… I’m out of practice, I mean… I can control it, but I don’t want to risk…um, and – and it’s not really –“

“Yes, Fire Nation, I will leave you alone,” the man interrupted.

Zuko looked down feeling a blush on his cheeks. “Um, yes… thank you.”

“Just don’t overstrain yourself, so you can climb back up,” the noble warned. “I will tell you when the dinner is ready.”

The man left. Zuko was alone with three shimmering torches. He inhaled deeply and all three flames grew alongside with his breath.

_Oh Agni, he missed this so much._

He slowly moved through all basic katas. His leg forbidden him from the moves with more complicated footing or jumps, but he still managed to break a sweat. All that without actually firebending, he was really out of practice. It was the longest break he had from actively bending since the first weeks of the banishment. Zuko repeated the entire sequence three times before he felt confident enough to summon a flame.

Uncle would be happy seeing him focusing on basics – at least Zuko thought so.

Using fire in a small space turned the room into a real sauna. Zuko had to wipe the sweat from his forehead every minute. He sat on the stairs for a moment to let his leg rest, it was doing better than he’d expected – only rhythmic pulsing without the terrible stabbing feeling. He regrated he didn’t bring some water with him. It was really hot, and his stamina was pathetic.

Before Zuko began the second round, he decided that it was better to take his shirt off – it was already sweaty and sticky, no need to make it wet. He untied the sash from his hips and removed the keys from the pocket. Zuko had never had a problem with being shirtless, but since he has been in this house he tried to avoid his reflection. He hadn’t like bruises, and too visible bones, and how fragile he’d looked… Now, it didn’t bother him anymore.

Except for the three big scars on his back.

When he moved he could feel the tender skin stretching bit by bit. It wasn’t painful, just unpleasant. He’d had worse after all. The scars weren’t as visible as the one on his face, but he doubted they would ever disappear completely.

Zuko went through the set again.

And again, this time with bigger flames.

And again, adding some improvised one-legged jumps.

He was panting, but it didn’t bother him much after his fractured ribs healed. Zuko realized he hasn’t been thinking for the whole time… He really missed bending.

“Oh, fuck…” The door above Zuko’s head opened letting some daylight and fresh air inside. “Fire Nation, you’ve changed my basement into a fucking volcano.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Zuko, he stood in the middle of the room, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands.

“I’m not going down,” Mr. Xaalo declared. “Put out the torches and come here. Ugh… I’m not letting you into the kitchen before you shower. We are back at stage one… _Filthy Boy_.”

Zuko grabbed his shirt and keys from the floor, then with an exhale the flames disappeared. He wanted to put the shirt on, but it turned out to be wetter and filthier than he’d expected… He hobbled up the stairs with slight difficulties and shivered when cold air met with his bare chest. He handed Mr. Xaalo the keys and walked past him, wishing to be in the shower as fast as possible. The practice made him terribly hungry.

Zuko was halfway to the bathroom when he heard a muffled gasp. He turned around and saw the noble frowning at him, with his hand close to his mouth.

 _Oh… the scars_. Zuko completely forgot that the noble knew about them only technically. He stopped breathing, looking with wide eyes at the man’s shocked expression.

Mr. Xaalo cleared his throat. “Um… That’s rough, Scribe,” he said with a husky voice.

“…Yeah, I guess. Not anymore,” Zuko said through the clenched throat, he hoped the lie wasn’t too noticeable. Maybe it didn’t hurt anymore, but it was still pretty _‘rough’_.

The noble got rid of his shock and adapted his casual frown. “Speed up. The dinner is ready. Do you think the fire spice will fit with melon?”

Zuko frowned. “Um…no?”

“You will try it nonetheless,” the noble stated without the room for a protest. “And apologize for the lack of faith later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it was a pretty calm home life that took me almost 4k. But I hope you can see the build-up I'm trying to make 🤫 But also I wanted to Zuko-Lee be almost wholly Zuko for a little bit longer. Sue me.
> 
> (yes, I took the _iconic _line and put it in Xaa's mouths)__
> 
> _  
> _It's not the end yet!!! More occasions for reading your comments guys!!_  
> _
> 
> _  
> _Tell me what are your thoughts about this home life of the chaotic two, or maybe predictions for the future chapter (that will be the last one... I'm like 96% sure of that). Thoughts on Xaalo, the guard (who is a sweetheart), or the main hero are all welcomed._  
> _
> 
> __  
> _ps. my laptop is dying and I'm slightly terrified of the separation that we have to make. Try to cure it with comments or sth.... yeah I know it doesn't work like that. but it won't hurt to try.....  
>  I guess I will plan our divorce after I finish Rock Bottom._  
> 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time so I'm giving you a quick wrap:
> 
> Mr. Xaalo knows Zuko is a firebender, he'd apologized after Zuko's problems with the town's guard (Gilo). The other guard - Ho - was nice to him and Zuko didn't get a heart attack during an awkward small talk. Our poor boy was restless and Mr. Xaalo took him to the basement that changed into Zuko's firebending gym. Fit Master was practicing shirtless witch ended in Mr. Xaalo noticing the scars on Zuko's back...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive. My laptop died on Monday and miraculously came back to me on Friday :D.... But in my four-day despair I _accidentally _give some of my money to 🍏 and now I'm broke af, but with another writing device!!! yey! (seriously though I don't regret that iPad is dope and I can be a mobile writer xd)__
> 
> _  
> _Oh, and a chapter count made a jump but who's even surprised anymore. I didn't add anything to the plot I have but I wanted to show you that I'm still in this world_  
> _
> 
> _  
> _Enjoy :)))_  
> _

Zuko knew that the third floorboard on the right side of his bed always cracked when he stepped on it. He knew that a cupboard with plates had a broken hinge, and it required a certain pressure to open without causing a disaster. He had started to prefer one mug over the other, it was slightly chipped on its side. Zuko liked to trace his lip over the sharp edge when his thoughts started to wander. 

He became familiar with this place.

It was easier to keep a thing moving than to stir a constant, and Zuko was more solid within these four walls with every passing day. 

It scared him. 

Could _the break_ never stop? Did he want it to last forever?

For Agni’s sake… what was _the break_?

An excuse to let go of the task that had kept him moving for three long years. 

There was a time when Zuko despised excuses. _‘Find the Avatar and bring him to me’_ – Zuko hadn’t even tried to think about finding an excuse for this mission. For his thirteen-year-old feverish mind, the not-seen-through-the-last-century fact hadn’t classified as an obstacle, just an inconvenience. 

He’d found the Avatar. Failed. Became a traitor. Almost died. And now, he didn’t know what to do next. 

Back then, he’d had a goal, a purpose…

Now, the goal hasn’t changed, but Zuko was tired and afraid of another failure. Afraid of dying. Not so long ago, he’d gotten pretty-damn-close to the point where there wouldn’t have been a turn back. He would have starved, sooner or later, but he had no doubts it would’ve ended this way.

Zuko rubbed his sleepy eyes and shook his head, it always pulsed with a dull ache after he tried to find a solution for his forsaken situation. His whole body was sore after yesterday’s exercises, but he liked this kind of pain, he’d missed this kind of pain. Though, his leg hurt slightly too much to ignore, it was the same pulsing that occurred after the scuffle with the guard. Zuko had to wait through the pain, and later it would get better… at least he hoped so.

He limped to the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee. He found Mr. Xaalo sitting in front of an already prepared breakfast, which meant the man got up earlier than usual. Normally, when Zuko entered the kitchen after his morning meditation, Mr. Xaalo was in the middle of preparations, and sometimes Zuko helped him with chopping.

Zuko sat in his usual spot and frowned when he took a closer look at the man.

“Are you all right, Sir?” he asked concerned, looking at the dark circles under the noble’s eyes. The man looked tired, his shoulders were slumped, making his usually straight back into an arch. “Are you sick?”

Mr. Xaalo scowled at Zuko, taking a too-long sip from his mug. “No.”

“Um… you really look that way,” Zuko pointed out carefully.

The man scowled at him; his eyebrow raised in a manner that always heralded a snarky comment. “Oh, I see we’ve made a turn and now you are the one insulting my appearance?”

“I’m not – “

“After everything I’ve done for you?” Mr. Xaalo asked, looking straight into Zuko’s eyes, his voice filled with _saddens_. Zuko has never heard the man showing any signs of vulnerability. “I’ve let you live under my roof… I gave you a job… I’ve instantly noticed your potential… You,” the noble dramatically pointed his finger at Zuko, the gesture was too fake for Zuko to flinch, “you dare to insult an old man’s appearance.”

Zuko observed Mr. Xaalo and in a second he abandoned his _hurt_ expression and replaced it with his sarcastic smirk. _It looked so similar to Ember Island Players…_ the same acting skills but at least the noble, most likely, wanted to perform like this.

Zuko deadpanned, his heart beating only slightly faster than usual, he was far from panic, but the unsettling feeling connected to _another change_ was there.

Mr. Xaalo chuckled. “That’s how your self-pitying monologues feel like.”

“I’m not self-pitying myself!” Zuko exclaimed, placing his clenched fists on his lap, out of the man’s view. 

“Actually, you are right… You are loathing yourself,” the noble stated.

“I’m not,” Zuko growled, making his lips into a straight line. He was denying even though there was some truth in the noble’s remark.

“You do,” Mr. Xaalo said. “I’d tended to do the opposite for some time.”

Zuko took the opportunity to make the conversation, not about himself, he didn’t like where it could go. “And you don’t anymore?” he asked harsher than he’d meant to.

“Here’s the mouthy brat I hired,” the noble smirked, and took a sip from his mug. “Sometimes I still do, you should try it one day.” Zuko deepened his scowl and turned his face away from the noble. “Seriously, Scribe, I don’t know who made you treat yourself like garbage, but you don’t have to continue doing this… You had cut ties with your homeland, so maybe try cut this shit too?”

Zuko felt his inner flame dangerously shimmering inside of his chest. He refused to look at the noble, he kept glaring at the small stain on the corner of the table, as if it was the stain’s fault the noble started saying things Zuko didn’t want to hear.

Mr. Xaalo took the final sip of his coffee and stood up from the table without touching the food. Zuko stubbornly wasn’t looking at him, but he could tell the man stopped at the right side of his chair. Zuko got startled by the kick to the leg of his chair, finally, he glared at Mr. Xaalo, some steam escaping his nostrils.

“Pick up your self-esteem or I will lower your wage, brat,” the man said glaring at Zuko. “It doesn’t change shit, but I doubt you truly deserved the fucked-up things that happened to you.”

“You can’t know that,” Zuko hissed through a clenched throat. He held Mr. Xaalo’s gaze, so he noticed how the noble’s eyes were jumping from the left side of his face to the right. This time, Zuko didn’t look away, letting the man make his judgment. It was obvious that something like this had to be a deserved punishment.

Mr. Xaalo chuckled humorlessly. “ _Sure,_ I can’t,” he shrugged. “But I do know that you are the luckless bastard I’ve met.”

Now it was Zuko’s turn for a humorless chuckle. “I was lucky to be born.”

Mr. Xaalo frowned. “Who told you that?” he asked his voice tense. “I doubt you came with this yourself unless I underestimated your self-loathing talents.”

“…Father,” Zuko admitted in a low whisper, turning his gaze to the floor.

Mr. Xaalo huffed, his eyebrows raised high, almost touching his hairline. “And I’ve thought that the Earth Kingdom nobles are the biggest assholes, but I see we have a serious competition in our _esteemed fiery neighbors_ …”

Zuko stopped breathing and froze after the direct mention of nobility. The man was getting too close to the truth… Zuko couldn’t let him know…

“Oh, spirits…” Mr. Xaalo sighed rubbing his temples. “It’s obvious you were once a nobility. Sometimes, when you don’t babble, you talk like one, you write like one, and you have some other habits that prove my point. I’m not going to question you about it, so could you start breathing before you choke yourself?”

Zuko, indeed, stopped breathing without even realizing it. He gasped for fresh air; it took him a few shaky breaths to catch a rhythm. Mr. Xaalo patiently waited for him to calm before continuing.

“Back to my point,” he said leaning over the table, but not invading Zuko’s personal space. “Not that I ever wanted to do such a foolish thing, but if I were a father, I would be a terrible one… But from what I see your _daddy_ beats me in the competition.”

It was Zuko’s fault that Father had been tough with him… _Why the noble couldn’t get it?!_ Father was never harsh towards Azula because she hadn’t given him reasons for disciplining her. Zuko was one big, walking disappointment and Father only tried to help him…

Zuko’s head started to hurt again, and he lost his appetite.

“Your father is an asshole, kid,” Mr. Xaalo said. “Quote your beloved _foolish nonsense_ , not him.”

Zuko flinched after the noble – without even realizing it – called the Fire Lord an asshole. But the treasonous vision of Mr. Xaalo insulting Father seemed so surreal that Zuko huffed. “Say it to his face,” he muttered.

After he’d said it out loud the vision of the event stopped to be funny – Mr. Xaalo would be burned and dead within seconds. He shivered at the thought.

“Sure, next time I’m in the Fire Nation I will,” he shrugged, unaware of a hidden death sentence. “You thought you experienced my insulting skills? You did not – it was me being nice. You lovely father will see what I’m capable of.”

Zuko’s tensed body was close to trembling but the vision of impossible event made him release a soft chuckle, but because of his squeezed throat, it sounded more like a cough. _It’s just another treasonous thought to add to his impressive record._

Zuko sighed and tried to stand up from the chair but the noble put his shoe just behind the chair leg, trapping Zuko.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Zuko frowned, looking over his shoulder at the noble. “…Standing up?”

“Eat,” Mr. Xaalo ordered. “I wasn’t nursing your scrawny ass, only for you to starve again because you don’t like eating while brooding. It’s called multitasking, brat.”

He didn’t try to stand up again, aware of Mr. Xaalo’s foot blocking the chair. His body was too sore for putting any effort into jostling with the man over a stupid chair. Instead, he glared at him and barked, “You didn’t eat either and you still look like shit, Mr. Xaalo.”

“That makes two of us,” the man retorted immediately with a fake smile on his face. Zuko didn’t even have time to panic after what he’d just said. “Thought, I would argue that after yours yesterday fire-play you are more worn out than me.”

Zuko crossed his arms, glaring at the noble.

“ _Fuck me…_ ” the man growled quietly. He stomped to his chair and sat down, purposefully making more fuss than necessary. “Are you happy now?”

“I’m never happy.”

Mr. Xaalo chuckled. “That makes two of us.”

After a moment Zuko put fruit on his plate and lazily started peeling it, meanwhile Mr. Xaalo was slicing the bun as if it personally insulted him. They both, finally, ate the breakfast in silence, disturbed only by scowls and glares from both sides of the table.

After they finished, Zuko boiled water, and Mr. Xaalo prepared the second coffee dose for both of them.

“After such a wonderful morning I guess we gonna need much more,” he sighed.

“I guess,” muttered Zuko, taking his mug. “Do you have a new work for me, Sir?”

Mr. Xaalo sighed and rubbed his temple, Zuko didn’t understand why the question got this reaction.

“A pile waits for you in the office.”

Zuko nodded relieved, finished his drink in few deep gulps, and limped to the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MISS THE COMMENTS <3
> 
> This scene turned out angsty but like... with feels? Idk I kinda like it and I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the two chaos benders. It hurt to write Zuko blaming himself for the abuse but someday he will open his eyes I promise.  
> Mr. Xaalo aka who "looks like shit" gonna end the war by insulting the asshole lord. That's official.
> 
> As I said, this scene evolved and I wanted to show you that I'm alive, so (who knows really?) the next chap may be the next one unless I'm gonna add another filler. I have no control. 
> 
> <333 Comment, you know I have to test if my keyboard works after the repairs (that wasn't at all connected to the keyboard but who cares just comment 😆


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _there is no chapter count in this story ___

Zuko was patient enough to wait with the request until Mr. Xaalo took the last lazy sip of his coffee. Gladly the man looked better than the last day, but he was still visibly tired. Zuko wondered if something changed or maybe at the beginning of his employment, he was too timid to look at the noble’s face long enough to notice such details.

“Can you give me something new to work on?” Zuko asked. “I’ve finished the last stack.”

Mr. Xaalo sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How about a day off?” he asked, and before Zuko could protest, he added, “Paid day off?”

Zuko scowled at the noble. “I won’t take the money for doing nothing.”

“Oh right… I forgot that you are a street rat with principles,” Mr. Xaalo sighed, giving Zuko a look. “You’ve already finished my overdue forms, recent papers, and everything I could think of. Brat, seriously your working pace is too fast for my business. No promises, but tomorrow maybe I will get some new stuff.”

Zuko crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. He tried to think of something he could do besides writing… He could clean but Mr. Xaalo already had a lady that was doing the job and Zuko couldn’t take her place. There was nothing he could do that would be useful and distracting.

“Do you want to go to the basement, Flame-thrower?”

Zuko glanced at the noble. The proposition of firebending was tempting, he felt how his inner flame got warmer. He let a small fire appear on his palm, easy to be mistaken for a lit match. Mr. Xaalo followed the flame with his gaze as Zuko juggled it from one finger to another.

Zuko hesitated and sighed, the flame still dancing between his fingers. “I – I… no, um… I would like to but…” Zuko wasn’t used to talking about his weaknesses, he couldn’t find the words that would go through his throat without making it clenched, “My leg... I shouldn’t overstrain it if I want to ever walk straight again,” he admitted bitterly, long lectures from the time in the canyon echoing in his head. He already had disobeyed so many Moosha’s orders when he was more concerned about food than his mobility.

“So, you did too many fiery jumps the last time?” Mr. Xaalo asked with a raised eyebrow. Zuko growled, which the man correctly interpreted as a yes. “The offer of sacrificing my floorboards still stands.”

“I’m not an invalid! I don’t need the cane!” Zuko snapped, his flame got bigger for a second. He stuffed it immediately and checked the noble's reaction – the man seemed unimpressed. _At least this stayed without changes._ “I… sorry,” he said, looking down. “I’m fine, I don’t need your pity, Sir.”

Mr. Xaalo snorted. “Me? Pitying you?” The man took a long lazy sip of his coffee, then he joined his hands on the flat surface of the table and looked at Zuko with a heavy gaze. “Boy, you were half-dead, and I was mocking, not pitying you… You accuse the wrong man. I don’t do _the pity thing_ ,” he emphasized in a way that the word sounded foreign on his tongue.

Zuko considered it for a moment and shrugged. “Yeah… I guess that’s right. Thanks.”

The man snorted again. “I doubt it’s something to thank for.”

Zuko ignored the remark and tried one more time. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I could do?”

Mr. Xaalo rested his head on the back of the chair, looking at the ceiling. Zuko was unsure why the man was doing it, he glanced up and found nothing interesting. Finally, the noble must’ve get bored of the ceiling because he looked back at Zuko. “There is one thing, but you won’t like that.”

“Yes?” Zuko asked tensed.

“I’m not a fan of the idea either.”

“…What is it?”

“Some errands in the town.”

Zuko swallowed and shook his head. “No… the guard, he’s going to – to… I don’t know but – “

“Gilo is nursing his broken bones and pride, he’s not in town,” Mr. Xaalo interrupted when Zuko’s breath picked up. “It’s not a market day, it should be calm. Are you up for it?”

Zuko hesitated before answering. He was restless, but the last trip ended terribly… But besides the incident with the guard, he’d enjoyed it. Other people were just ignoring him, and Mr. Xaalo was partially right about his social skills – he had to learn how to blend in, and how to not break bones when someone walked on him from behind…

“Yeah… I will go,” he declared, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I will give you a list but firstly the important matters...” The noble stood up from his chair and leaned over Zuko, not yet invading his personal space but the manner had something threatening in it. Zuko went still. “In case of any troubles you go to Ho,” the man said seriously, “if you can’t find him then, as a last resort, swing with your fancy cane while looking around for Ho. And for spirit's sake, no matter what, do not firebend.”

“Yes – yes, Sir,” Zuko sputtered, intimidated by the close distance and the stern voice of the man.

Mr. Xaalo rolled his eyes and straightened his back, no longer looming over Zuko. He stayed tensed, observing the man, who was – again – rubbing his temples.

“I’m serious. No firebending. I have no idea what would I have to say to save your scrawny ass.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Zuko growled. “I know what is done to firebenders here… I like my hands not crushed,” he said, feeling shivers running down his spine.

“Indeed, a _lovely_ practice…”

Zuko scowled at the man. “It’s cruel,” he muttered, flexing his fingers under the table.

Mr. Xaalo rubbed his elbow, studying Zuko’s numb stare and slumped posture. “I bet it is…” he sighed and looked specifically on the left side of Zuko’s face. “Burns aren’t the most pleasant either, huh?”

“Better than crushed hands,” Zuko muttered stubbornly, refusing to overthink the dilemma.

“None of us had his hands crushed so we can’t tell for sure,” the noble shrugged.

Zuko had been pretty close to getting his hands crushed at in the Fong’s base, if not the strange colonel he would be punished for firebending this way. He still remembered how the earthbenders had been seconds from crushing Uncle’s hands...

_Something was off…_

“Wait…” gasped Zuko when he realized what the noble had left unsaid. “You were burned?”

“It’s not uncommon around here, honestly, but not all of us has a fancy facial scar to brag about it.”

“You mean… by – by a firebender?” Zuko asked, his voice shaking.

“Don’t act so surprised.” The man rolled his eyes and smirked. “In this world, it would be boring for this to happen the more ordinary way.”

Zuko's mind went blank as he looked at the noble.

 _Why did he talk about this so lightly?_ _Why did he encourage him to bend when he was once hurt? What did happen that one of… of Zuko’s people burned some nobleman? Had Mr. Xaalo been once involved in the war?_

And the implication that burns were not uncommon… The burns Zuko knew were always deserved or gained in a fight, but he had a bad feeling that not all people Mr. Xaalo referred to were soldiers.

_It was wrong._

Uncle had kept repeating that fire wasn’t meant to only destroy, yet so many people were burned.

Zuko snapped out of his thoughts and realized he has been staring at the noble for the whole time. Mr. Xaalo sighed and unbuttoned his cuff and let the material loosen around his forearm, then he lifted his slightly shaking hand at the fabric fell, exposing his elbow and part of the upper arm.

A burn.

The skin was misshapen, in a pale red shade that went up, ending somewhere on the shoulder where the fabric still covered the damage. It wasn’t as red and angry as the one on Zuko’s face, but it was extensive.

Zuko cleared his clenched throat. “It’s old,” he said matter-of-factly.

The noble rubbed his elbow and covered it with his sleeve, Zuko felt a spike of jealousy that the man could hide it. “It is,” he admitted looking at Zuko. “Actually, I might’ve been around your age. It had hurt as fuck, but it wasn’t a deep one.”

Zuko’s mind refused to picture Mr. Xaalo as a teenager, then he suddenly realized his mistake. “I – I’m sorry that I was playing with fire around you.”

Mr. Xaalo frowned and with slight difficulties he fastened his sleeve back into the right place. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I’m not afraid of fire.”

Zuko shook his head, the guilty feeling settled in the center of his chest. “Fire and firebending are different things,” he argued, remembering how sitting around steady fire had been fine as long as someone started to bend it. It had taken him many long hours spent with Uncle to be able to step on his own deck in time of firebending practice.

Mr. Xaalo studied him for a second and nodded. “Technically that’s right,” he admitted. “But I treat it the same. Look, both can be useful,” He pointed at Zuko, “and both can kill you.”

Zuko didn’t agree with this logic, it was foolish. A person wielding fire was more dangerous than a damned fireplace. He glanced at the man and decided to ask the question echoing in his head. “How… how aren’t you afraid of firebenders?” _Zuko remembered the first days when he had been flinching after Uncle lit up candles._ “Were you after – after the burn?” he asked quietly.

Mr. Xaalo looked somewhere behind Zuko, searching for the memory. He couldn’t believe how even the slightest wince didn’t appear on his face. _How?_

“I wasn’t,” the noble answered. “Most likely out of pure spite.” Zuko gawked at the man in disbelief. “I don’t get why you look so stunned… You are not afraid of fire either.” Mr. Xaalo raised his eyebrow and rested his head in his palm, still looking straight at Zuko. “Do you think a _mere ordinary man_ should be too weak to look at fire ever again, _oh mighty firebender_?”

“I don’t…” Zuko denied rapidly, even though he was almost sure the last sentence was filled with sarcasm. “It’s just part of me… I didn’t have another choice than to adjust again.”

Zuko looked down after the honest confession left his mouth. The whole talk became weirdly personal, though he didn’t feel like he was in any danger because of it. The guilty feeling hasn’t left his chest… Zuko wasn’t alive when that happened, he was no longer a prince but a sense of responsibility for his people was imprinted in his bones.

When the silence became too much to bear Zuko spoke.

“What… what happened?” he asked, looking for an explanation why one of his people had chosen to hurt the man. Zuko could imagine him being irritating but it wasn’t enough to deserve to be burned.

“Don’t ask questions if you don’t want them to _backfire_ at you,” the noble retorted.

Zuko lowered his gaze apologetically. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have… Sorry, um… sorry,” he mumbled.

Mr. Xaalo sighed. “I’m not angry, brat,” he assured, waiting for Zuko to meet his gaze again. The man, indeed, didn’t look mad. Zuko let himself relax, though he still felt bad after asking the question in the first place. “My pride had hurt worst than the arm,” the noble chuckled at the memory.

Zuko frowned, not understanding a damn thing… How the man could chuckle while thinking about the event that caused such a big burn? Zuko shivered every time when the picture of the Agni Kai chamber crossed his mind. He doubted he would ever be able to laugh or even smile while thinking about those marble floors…

“It was mostly my fault, but I have never admitted it,” Mr. Xaalo added with a smug smile on his lips.

With a spike of compassion that ran through Zuko’s body, he whispered, “Mine was my fault too.”

Zuko looked down at his fists firmly placed on his lap. He wasn’t sure why he’d shared the truth with the noble but… maybe since the man lived through something similar, he could understand or help him to be able to feel so nonchalant about it…

“Did you fell headfirst on a torch?” Mr. Xaalo asked harshly, his expression was no longer nostalgic or relaxed. The man was looking at Zuko with daggers in his eyes, with that analytical gaze that always made him squirm.

“ _What?!_ No – ”

“Because I wonder how so centered and deep burn might’ve been your fault, and it was the only explanation that came to my mind.” Zuko scowled at the man, ignoring the hurt feeling in his chest. He had shared something with him, and the man refused to take him seriously… “Forgive me, Scribe, but I don’t trust your loathing judgment in this matter.”

“I’m not lying!” Zuko snapped and regrated that he continues the uncomfortable topic. _Just shut your mouth idiot!_

“It’s even worst that you might actually believe it.”

Zuko turned his head away from the man, the scar out of his view.

“Your little brain doesn’t like to hear things that don’t fit your picture, huh?” Zuko turned his head further, not looking at the man even from the corner of his eye. “Did your lovely daddy paint that picture?”

Zuko couldn’t take it. He stood up from the chair, resting his clenched fists on the table. The fire in the lamps grew as he spoke. “Father painted the burn! “Zuko bellowed, feeling weird satisfaction when the man’s lips parted open. “And I deserved it!” Zuko didn’t realize that his fists covered in flames. “Shut up! Shut up! And stop pretending you know shit! Just shut up!” the last words came more as a cracked whine than a yell.

He turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen before he set something on fire. Slamming the doors to his room was a childish thing to do, but for a second he felt better after doing it.

Then, in the quiet four walls, all anger disappeared, and he felt numb.

He had partially lost control of his flames in front of the man.

Zuko ignored the throbbing leg and sat in seiza in the middle of the room, squeezing his eyes, trying to regulate his shaky breath. It’s been a long time since Zuko firebended out of pure anger, he forgot how uncontrolled it was. The man might be saying things Zuko didn’t want to hear but it’s not an excuse for his outburst. Especially not after all the trust Mr. Xaalo had put in him.

Zuko breathed through anger, pain, and guilt. Then, he let himself light a small flame in his arms and started again.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how long did it take before he left the room. He checked the living room and the kitchen, listening to any sounds coming from the upstairs but the house was quiet. Zuko found Mr. Xaalo sitting on the porch with a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Zuko lowered his head, almost bowing. “I apologize for my outburst and the display of lacking control over my flames. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s an unacceptable disgrace. I swear it won’t happen again.” Zuko swallowed before adding. “I’m ready to face the consequences that you choose as suitable.”

“Woah… Hothead, I’m impressed you didn’t stutter even once.”

Zuko’s neck remained bowed, looking on the ground. “I wanted to do it right, Sir.”

“Stop that bowing bullshit, brat,” Mr. Xaalo groaned. Zuko momently straightened his posture. “I’ve pushed your buttons a little too hard, though I will use your offering to voluntarily face the consequences.”

Zuko held his breath, he naively hoped he wouldn’t be punished but he had wasted too many chances…

“You will take a day off without complaining when I order you to.”

“What?” Zuko stopped his official approach to express his total confusion. He carefully glanced at the man sipping his drink. “That’s not a punishment.”

“As you called it – it’s a _consequence_ ,” Mr. Xaalo empathized with a smug smile that felt fake. “Honestly, I was angrier when you puked my tart. You are allowed to tell people, me included, to fuck off when they are over your head.”

Zuko nodded even though he didn’t like the remark.

“But note that I really mean what I said to you,” Mr. Xaalo said in a low tone and took another long sip.

Zuko glanced in the stream’s direction. “Um… can I still go to the town, Sir?” He really needed a colossal distraction, the numb feeling was passing, leaving the place for his baffled thoughts and Mr. Xaalo’s remarks. Zuko was too tired for this today, maybe someday, but not today.

“Are you completely sure you will keep your sparks at bay?” he asked seriously, piercing Zuko with his glare.

“Yes.”

Mr. Xaalo took a creased piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Zuko. “Here’s a list,” he explained.

Zuko narrowed his eyes trying to decipher the wobbly characters.

“Don’t you dare to comment on my handwriting, little pedant!” Mr. Xaalo barked with true anger behind his words, pointing his finger at Zuko.

“Yes, Sir.” Zuko put the list into his pocket.

_It’s going to be the hardest task yet… he couldn’t even guess what the first word meant…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Xaalo the accidental therapist strikes again! (seriously though he has enough of it)
> 
> I would gladly hear any theories you might have, on Xaalo's story or maybe future events, and of course, everything you felt/thought while reading this chapter!
> 
> I plan this to be only a section but then it kinda grew? (thanks Zuko and your angst!)
> 
> I do have tumblr that I accidentally abandoned https://renegadeoftheworld.tumblr.com/ maybe I will reanimate it. You can go there with any asks or (omg I would sell my soul to you) arts.
> 
> Ok I guess that's all I wanted to say... If someone might want to hear my raving just provoke me in the comments and I won't hesitate 😆


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Chapter count stayed the same!

The coins rattled in his bag, the sack Mr. Xaalo gave him to complete the errands, and what was left from his payment. The unreadable list folded in his pocket since the time he’d looked at in back on the porch. He tried to fool himself that after the next reading the wobbly characters would miraculously make sense.

Zuko was walking slowly, the bad hung from his shoulder, the staff gripped in his fist, his leg numbly pulsing but not to the point when it would get concerning. Limping through the backstreets of the town was pleasant. It’s been a while since he was on his own, recently most of the time Mr. Xaalo was always somewhere nearby. Zuko didn’t want to admit it but his presence was comforting, his remarks harsh but not malicious, and he didn’t mind when Zuko forgot to bite his tongue in time.

He shook his head before he started thinking about the burn on the noble’s shoulder and everything the man had said and _knew_ about Zuko.

He reached the town. Now, he had to focus on acting normally, like an ordinary boy sent to do some errands, not a fugitive of three nations. He leaned over the fence on the edge of the square and unfolded the list.

After five minutes of looking at the words, he thought he deciphered the beginning – _guard_ , _knows_ , and _panic_ … or rather _don’t panic_ after looking closely. The last one was probably a remark aimed at him personally. Zuko scowled at the piece of parchment and growled under his breath.

So, he had to find the guard.

This _Ho guy_ seemed to be safe, though he definitely talked too much, and smiled too much, it was making Zuko more awkward than he already was. He slowly turned towards the station, trying to think how to start a conversation with the guard without knowing what Mr. Xaalo wanted.

_Hi, do you know what am I supposed to do? Well, I don’t because Mr. Xaalo writes like me when I was three. Please don’t tell him that or he locks me in the cage and gut with his metal rod… Sir._

Zuko released a soft chuckle at the thought, then something bumped into him from his bad side. He dropped his bag, as he fought – and lost – to keep his footing. He landed on the gravel and automatically backed away from the attacker. The dust around him got into his eyes and he could barely see anything. His heart throbbed in his chest, as he started coughing from inhaling the dirty air.

He heard another cough somewhere from the dusty cloud.

“Are you all right?” The owner of the voice waved with his hands trying to get rid of the dust. Zuko gripped his staff tighter as the man stepped closer, his vision was still blurry and unfocused. “Damned dirt!” The owner growled, as the cloud finally disappeared. Zuko braced himself, ready to use the staff if necessary. “Are you all right?”

The man was middle-aged and well-build but Zuko doubted he was a bender, more likely a physical worker. The man seized him with his gaze, his expression changed from concerned to petulant when his eyes reached Zuko’s face.

“Oh crap… you are Xaalo’s boy.” The man looked around and then walked towards Zuko and reached for him with his hand. No weapon, Zuko thought, he could handle it. “Come on! Up! Up!”

_…It wasn’t an attack?_

When Zuko didn’t take the offered hand, the man frowned and grabbed his wrist himself, and lift him to his feet. Zuko flinched only a little with the first contact but he used his entire will not to act recklessly and let the situation play. The man growled and started patting Zuko’s shoulders and arms. “Here, now there’s no signs of our little collision.”

“Stop it!” snapped Zuko taking a step away from this invasive patting, his irritation taking over the fear. “I’m fine.”

The man picked up Zuko’s bad from the ground and handed it to him. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the bag.

Zuko exhaled slowly, it was just a coincidence, not a real attack. He did it. He actually reacted like a normal person. Zuko would let the proud feeling settle in his chest if not the man with crossed arms standing in front of him.

“Um… can I help you?” Zuko asked as a normal person would do in that situation.

The man snorted. “I won’t grovel in front of a teenager if that’s what you’re counting on.”

“What?” It was not how a normal situation should look like… at least Zuko thought so. “I’m not sure I know what are you talking about, Sir.”

The man frowned. “You are the boy that works for Xaalo?” he asked unsurely.

“Yes.”

The man raised his eyebrow in a challenging manner. “And you’ve just _politely_ called me ‘Sir’?”

“Um, yes?” Zuko answered perplexed. _Was it a bad thing to say?_

The man chuckled and relaxed his posture. “Xaalo is an asshole but he pays fairly. I’ve assumed you must be an asshole too if you managed to stay over two weeks around him,” the man said rubbing his beard, his eyes still analyzing Zuko. “Are you so desperate to put up with him?”

“I – I’m not…” Zuko muttered, all he wanted was to end this conversation. Mr. Xaalo was definitely an asshole but living in his house wasn’t _‘putting up with him’_ … His company was weird, constantly changing, and hard to predict, but after some time Zuko has found peace in the chaos. Mr. Xaalo almost knew Zuko – not Lee – and he still kept him around. “I enjoy my stay and Mr. Xaalo is a good boss. Sorry, I have to go now.”

The man hummed; his gaze glued to Zuko starting to become uncomfortable. “So, you won’t snitch on me?”

Zuko looked at him puzzled. “About what?”

“Nothing, kid…” the man’s lips twitched. “I have to stop gossiping with Gilo… Again, sorry I’ve bumped into you, my bad. Are you sure you are all right?” The man was looking specifically at Zuko’s staff and his bad leg. “Xaalo might strangle me or worse… lower the price if I damaged the only human being able to keep up with him.”

“Yeah… sure. Um, goodbye I have to go,” Zuko said, backing in the politest way he could muster. The man didn’t have a problem with him and better not give him any reasons to start. The not-attacker waved at Zuko, leaning over the fence.

Zuko didn’t look back and ducked into the side street, turning his head around every second to avoid any further incidents. He thought he knew how to reach the station using backstreets, and he hoped Ho would be there.

There was no sign of Ho.

The doors were closed, which was a little ironic. Zuko reluctantly turned towards the square, hoping that the chatty guard would be somewhere in the eyesight. He nervously traced his fingertips over the list folded in his pocket. Mr. Xaalo hadn’t told him the time limit to complete the task, but Zuko supposed the faster the better – it has always worked that way.

The guard was slowly circling the square, when he noticed Zuko, he changed his route, heading towards him. Zuko clenched his staff a little tighter as the man approached him in a bouncy step, with a smile glued to his face. Zuko wondered if it made his cheeks hurt.

“Hello there! I haven’t seen you around after the _last time,_ ” the guard greeted him, putting an emphasis on the last word.

Zuko was already stressed, and mentioning his almost-arrest didn’t help. He tried to stay relaxed, which ended in awkwardly clenching his chest with one hand and tapping his fingers over the staff with the other.

“You good?” the guard asked, concerned by the lack of verbal reaction from Zuko.

“Um, yes, hi,” Zuko said rapidly and then added, “Sir.”

Zuko knew he should look the bender in the face, but his eyes didn’t want to go anywhere further than his neck, he already had to raise his chin up to do it. He reached to his pocket and took the folded piece of paper.

“I…um, I mean… Mr. Xaalo gave me a list and…um, he mentioned that you know something… And I hope you do because… um, I can’t really read his handwriting.”

“Well, I surely know _something_ ,” the guard chuckled. “But I’m afraid I don’t know what Xaalo wants. Couldn’t you ask him what he wrote?”

“Um, well… he didn’t want me to comment on his writing, and asking would be some kind of commenting so… not really.”

The man laughed. “Well, can you show me the list?”

Zuko handed the list, the guard held it in a way that allowed both of them to look at the crooked words. Zuko was looking at it upside down but it didn’t make much of a difference.

“Yeah, that’s my name…” the guard stated looking at one of the words, then he narrowed his eyes. “Is this one _panic_?”

Zuko blushed, not looking into the man’s eyes. “Um… that’s unimportant,” he mumbled, the guard picked up on his uncomfortableness and didn’t ask again.

“Now, I get why he needed a scribe…” the guard sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We talked recently and I don’t recall him asking about anything…”

Zuko wished Mr. Xaalo would’ve just asked him to write the list, but he couldn’t blame him since he was the one who had snapped on him earlier.

“Seriously,” the guard continued, “I’ve received some notes from him and they didn’t look like this, it was actually readable. Maybe he’s just teasing you and those are just random lines?”

Zuko considered the option… It would be something the man could do but why? They talked about the shopping before their… um before _the incident_ , and Mr. Xaalo seemed serious. Was he mad and it was his revenge? This was possible, but Zuko couldn’t risk ignoring the task completely. It would mean total disrespect if he would be wrong and the list was real.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “But I can’t get back empty-handed.”

“Cheer up, kiddo!” The guard folded the list and handed it back to Zuko. He put his hand on Zuko’s elbow and gently nudged him to move. “We gonna surprise the rich man.”

_“We? What?”_

“Well… _you,_ but I’m coming along,” the guard stated with an excited smile glued to his face. “I want to put a little mischief into Xaalo’s shopping when he’s too proud to read the list to you.”

Zuko has never thought he would walk shoulder to shoulder with a huge earthbender without being forced to do it. Yet, here he was, dragging himself next to the guard, with a staff in one hand, and with the damned list in the other.

“There are not many stalls when the market is closed,” the guard said. “Xaalo knows it… Hmm… maybe something connected with your job?”

Zuko considered the possibility. He took the list closer to his eye to look at it from a different angle. “Umm, this one might mean ‘ink’…” He pointed at the word at the bottom. “Do you know where I can find it?”

The guard led Zuko towards the stall on the opposite end of the square. He kept telling him about his younger cousins, and Zuko really tried to follow the story but the man’s storytelling was so chaotic that all he could do was politely nodding when the guard glanced at him. Zuko got the point of the story, which was that Ho’s cousins didn’t like cabbages. Somewhere in the middle of the story, they bought few bottles of ink from the small stand close to the florist shop.

Zuko feared that after the silence Ho would ask about a family story in return. When he heard the guard taking a deep breath after his monologue, he was prepared to try to sell him some lies.

“I know!” the guard exclaimed, grinning mischievously to Zuko. “Let’s buy him some tea.”

Zuko stopped, totally dumbfounded. “What?”

“ _Tea_ ,” the guard repeated. “You know, leaves that you brew…”

Zuko growled under his breath, irritated. “I know what _tea_ is,” he said harsher than he had meant to. “I don’t think Mr. Xaalo likes it.”

“I know, I’ve once told him about a new tea stall and I thought he would faint.”

“… So why do you think it’s a good idea to buy it for him?”

“I want to see his face so badly,” the guard admitted. “He deserves it after sending you on a blind quest.”

Huh… _a blind quest…_

“Come on!”

Ho lightly grabbed him by his elbow and nudged into the opposite side of the square. Zuko felt a little proud that he hadn’t flinched from the sudden touch. But keeping up with the pace of the excited guard became hard and Zuko had to make long, not-fully-balanced, almost jumps. When he accidentally tripped over the stone the guard suddenly stopped.

“Oh damn… I’m sorry, I forgot… Um, you good? We may stop and rest if you want to.”

Zuko wasn’t hobbling because his leg hurt too much to put pressure on it, he was doing it preventively. It would be a painful experience but he probably could walk almost straight without the staff for support. As long as he wasn’t forced to overstraining his leg, he didn’t want to go risk making the healing injury worse.

“No, um… just a little slower, please,” Zuko said ashamed of his weakness.

The guard wasn’t longer touching his elbow and slowed his steps, every moment checking if Zuko wasn’t struggling to keep up. They got to the herbal stall. The nice shopkeeper had a lot of blends but Zuko finally decided to take ginseng. It was bitter, so maybe it wouldn’t be so different from coffee… but honestly, Zuko doubted it. Mr. Xaalo would be mad but Zuko was too scared to disagree with the guard’s idea. He just swallowed the bad feeling and paid for the tea from his own sack, not the one given by the noble.

Zuko narrowed his eyes as he read the list once again, Ho stood by his side scratching his head, not even trying to decipher the words anymore. Zuko wasn’t sure why the guard was still with him… Was he watching him? Maybe, but it didn’t feel like it. Ho was too relaxed and too distracted for it to be a precaution from his troublemaking abilities. Though Zuko couldn’t find another reason for him accompanying him.

“Maybe spark rocks?” the guard asked suddenly when they were just walking without any real destination.

Zuko’s heart jumped right to his throat. He swallowed before answering, “No, um… he has some supplies.”

 _I’m basically a spark rock_ , he thought bitterly.

“Hmm…” the guard put his hand close to his mouth, thinking. After a minute he exhaled loudly and started rummaging in his bag. “I’m hungry. Come with me and I will show you where they sell the best roasted pig-chickens in the Earth Kingdom.”

The food seller was an old man with his two sons helping him. The guard immediately ordered his meat, and Zuko decided to get something lighter – he wasn’t that much of a meat fan. Ho walked to the closest bench with a huge bowl of meat, Zuko followed him with a bag frying potato-carrots.

With a full mouth, the guard took a sudden inhale, Zuko could tell the man got another idea. He stopped chewing his potato to avoid accidental choking.

“Did you hear about the Avatar?”

Stopping chewing his potato was the best decision he could’ve made. _“What?!”_

The guard put down his meat and looked at Zuko with an open mouth. “Wait… so you don’t know he returned? Woah… Lee, were you living under a rock or what?”

“No, I know that…” he said carefully. He didn’t know how much information could be taken for common knowledge… His personal knowledge was definitely high above the average. “I just got surprised… What about the Avatar?”

“Oh right! So, well he helped to destroy the Fire Navy in the North, a couple – “

“I’ve – I, um… I’ve heard that,” Zuko cut into Ho’s words.

_He knew that. He has been there. He has seen that._

Zuko didn’t need a reminder.

The guard grinned at him. “So, you are still pretty up to date! I’ve heard that over a month ago and then, a couple of days ago a merchant told me another gossip, but from a legit source. You ready?”

Zuko wasn’t feeling like he thought he should have… Other than the first surprise the perspective of getting a new lead left him numb. It wouldn’t change shit. The chance of coming home was no longer real.

Zuko nodded, just because he felt the guard wanted to tell him the news.

Apparently, the Avatar and his band were in Omashu and caused the Fire Nation some troubles. Zuko couldn’t take more facts from Ho’s story… It was full of the guard’s theories and useless speculation. He sounded excited and… _hopeful_ telling the story. Zuko didn't know what to think of that.

“I’m wondering why he visited Omashu in the first place,” the guard said.

Zuko had finished eating somewhere in the middle of the story, now, he was toying with a small pebble under his shoe. “Probably looking for an earthbending teacher.”

“What?”

“Um, I’ve heard he could only waterbend,” Zuko said a little too fast to let it pass as a normal answer, but the guard was too interested to care. “Um, I’ve read that Avatars learn the elements in the right order… But, um… it’s just a guess.”

“Do you know something else?” the guard asked, his eyes open wide, hopefully looking right at Zuko.

“I…um, no. Sorry.”

The guard waved his hand at him. “Don’t be,” he said with a warm smile. “It’s already a cool fact. Thanks, Lee.” He looked up at the sun that was already getting close to the horizon. “Well, let’s get you back to the rich man…” He grinned and added, “Let’s bring him his _shopping_.”

* * *

Mr. Xaalo sat on the porch in the exact same place Zuko had seen him the last time. He would’ve thought that the man hadn’t moved at all but instead of a glass with strong alcohol, he was sipping coffee, a pot of dark liquid on the table right next to his hand. When they got closer Zuko noticed that Mr. Xaalo was reading some book, he wasn’t sure if he spotted them yet.

“It took you long,” Mr. Xaalo scoffed, as they climbed the stairs. He looked up from his book, firstly at Zuko, then at Ho with his narrowed eyes. “But you actually came back, so I shouldn’t complain… Also, no handcuffs is an improvement.”

Zuko scowled at the noble, but the man couldn’t see it, he was taking a long sip of his drink with closed eyes.

“We got hungry during the shopping,” said the guard, leaning over the column, trying to hide a smile. “I take the blame for the delay.”

“Whatever,” shrugged Mr. Xaalo.

The guard prodded Zuko with his elbow and looked at the bag of shopping in his hand. Zuko didn’t want to unpack it now, the guard did, so Zuko had no other option than to comply. He put the bag on the table.

“Um… I’ve bought ink, and… um, some other writing stuff…” Zuko didn’t see a point in taking it out of his bag, but when his eyes landed on the bag of tea knew he has to reveal _the surprise_. “And tea,” he mumbled in a barely audible voice.

“What?” Mr. Xaalo asked, frowning at Zuko. “I would be glad if you open your mouth while speaking.”

Zuko felt a flush climbing up his cheeks, the guard chucked behind his back.

“Ginseng… tea.”

Zuko wasn’t looking at the noble but he could feel the man was glaring at him.

_“Tea?”_

“…Tea.”

The guard behind his back busted out laughing. Zuko was standing still, gripping his fingers on the staff, looking at his feet. He knew it wouldn’t end well… There was no chance the things he’d brought were on the list, and _the tea_ … It was bad…

“A fucking leaf juice…” Mr. Xaalo took the bag and sniffed it, his face twisted in disgust. The guard laughed louder, Zuko could hear his heart beating in his chest. “Grass in the bag…”

Mr. Xaalo put the tea back on the table and stood up. Zuko tensed when he sensed the man approaching him. Mr. Xaalo has never been violent, he has never hit him… But Zuko has never failed the task entrusted to him this much…

“I drug you with the dark blessing of this mere world and you know the names of leaves.”

“Ginseng is not made from leaves, Sir,” Zuko said, his voice slightly shaking when he tried to salvage the situation. “It’s um… it’s made from a root.”

The guard choked with another wave of laugh, and Zuko braced himself in case of taking the hit.

Mr. Xaalo released a loud angry groan. “You, look at me,” he ordered, pointing his finger at Zuko. He obeyed and looked at the man standing two steps in front of him. “Stop pissing your pants! I know it was the idea of this Rock Thrower.” Mr. Xaalo walked past Zuko towards the guard. “I’m not letting you corrupt my scribe. Get off my sight!” he growled.

The guard mocked a salute, releasing another chuckle. “Yes, Sir!” The guard winked at Zuko. “That’s what happens when I’m forced to read your shopping lists… Maybe next time read the list to the kid?”

“Off. My. Porch,” the noble barked through clenched teeth.

“Yeah… yeah… Bye, Lee,” he waved to Zuko. “See you around!”

“Um, yes – yes… bye,” Zuko stuttered.

The guard walked away in a bouncy step, humming something under his breath. Meanwhile, Zuko had to remind himself to breathe. Now, they were alone. So far, it was safe, but he couldn’t be sure anymore…

“Fucking insolent shit acts more like a teenager than you do,” the noble growled, coming back to Zuko’s side.

“So – sorry… I’ve used my money to buy it and… I – um…”

“Boy… You are not in any trouble for that… _Spirits damn it_ …” Zuko looked at the noble and nodded slowly. Mr. Xaalo with a weirdly slow movement rested his hand on Zuko’s arm and nudged him to move. “Ho wasn’t too much?”

Zuko slowly loosened up his entire tension when Mr. Xaalo was preparing dinner for them. He sat at the table, observing the man’s practiced movements, the noble was asking about unimportant things, from time to time he made a snarky comment about coffee’s supremacy. He didn’t mention the list and the fact that there was no chance Zuko had really guessed all the things from it.

During the dinner when Zuko was no longer scared of the consequences that, in fact, didn’t exist, he told Mr. Xaalo that he’d found it funny that Ho proposed to buy spark rocks.

“… Um, because you know… I’m basically doing the job.” He flushed when he finally stumbled to the point of his attempted joke.

The noble chuckled lightly, which helped Zuko to swallow his embarrassment. They chatted through one coffee, and then another. Mr. Xaalo was looking at him differently but Zuko couldn’t tell _how_ the man’s gaze felt different… Other than that, everything stayed the same, so Zuko let himself ignore the small change and for the first time not freak out about it.

After the disastrous morning, everything turned out fine.

* * *

It was a sunny afternoon, and Zuko had to hide a proud smile that was forcing its way onto his lips. He could almost walk without any limping, the pain was minimal, and his knee wasn’t buckling under him at random moments. He couldn’t wait for the time when he would march through the entire damn house with a full mug of coffee. Just under Mr. Xaalo’s nose.

He sat at the table, biting his lips, observing the man’s back as he prepared the food. When Mr. Xaalo turned to him his expression was _strange_.

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko deserved some time to just vibe like a normal human being <3 I'm so proud of him he was actually acting like one. Also, I have a feeling that Ho and Sokka would like each other.
> 
> Mr. Xaalo was not drunk when they came back, which is a success. But ooooopsie... Did I accidentally make a cliff? No one suspected that.
> 
> I will listen to yelling if you want to but more important I would love to read your feelings/thoughts/theories about everything. We can slowly get sentimental over the relationship between those two <3 we are close to the end guysssssss
> 
> 🖤🖤🖤


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ....  
> "We need to talk."  
> ...
> 
> Just a quick reminder :))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOO!!!
> 
> So first of all, before I forget (again :ccccc) there is a lovely fan art!!! It's Zuko from the first book you have to check it out and leave some hearts for the artist. I'm clueless about links, and I don't want to risk playing with them now, so go to my tumble, and it's almost at the top of it! Thank you for the arts and sorry (again) that I forgot to mention them earlier. 
> 
> My Tumblr ----- https://renegadeoftheworld.tumblr.com/  
> And hopefully the right link to the arts---- https://maridarkmoon-eclipse.tumblr.com/post/644035964737617920/sketches-for-the-fires-out-but-still-it-burns
> 
> NOW.......
> 
> THE FINAL CHAP  
> "we need to talk"

Zuko's breaths became shallow as he watched Mr. Xaalo slowly sitting on the chair right in front of him. The man’s face was a blank mask, Zuko couldn’t guess why they needed to talk. Thousands of bad scenarios crossed his mind, but he couldn’t focus on any of them for more than a second.

“Why? Wha – What did I –“

“You didn’t do anything,” Mr. Xaalo sighed rubbing the space between his eyebrows. “Do you know you are occupying my room for almost a month now?”

Zuko immediately looked down. He wasn’t really counting the time he was here, but it was long. And now it was coming to an end… Why else the man would point a direct time to him… _A month_ – definitely too long, and Zuko never really asked if it was okay for him to stay, especially lately when his number of forms to complete dramatically reduced. “Sorry,” he mumbled without looking up at the man.

Mr. Xaalo released a loud growl that made Zuko tense, and even more insecure. He hadn’t thought he was that much of a burden; the noble has never given any signs that his presence wasn’t welcomed anymore.

“Eyes up,” Mr. Xaalo ordered, Zuko obeyed and looked sheepishly at the noble pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying to be nostalgic and all you hear is blaming you for staying here…” He sighed loudly before continuing. “Except for the one invasion attempt you weren’t a problematic dweller, so stop that _‘I’m a burden’_ act,” he finished harshly, his annoyance somehow reassuring.

Zuko frowned in confusion, he wasn’t sure what was that supposed to mean or what answer the noble expected. Apparently, a lack of reaction wasn’t the wanted reaction. Mr. Xaalo groaned and rubbed his face, again.

“How are you feeling?” the noble asked, resting both hands on the table.

“What?” Zuko asked, even more, puzzled than before.

“A month ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if I would’ve found your corpse one morning,” Mr. Xaalo said. “Seriously, Fire Nation, most of the time I was wondering how you hadn’t passed out on my papers.” _Because he’d been scared of consequences…_ For the first days he’d felt pretty close to passing out. “So, here’s my question, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Zuko said automatically.

“As always convincing…” Mr. Xaalo sighed. “I’m serious. Is anything other than the leg still bothering you?”

Things that the noble knew or suspected were left unsaid, the man wanted an honest answer. After Zuko thought about it for a second he realized that he was really feeling fine. Any physical remnants from the North or the Earth Prison were no longer an issue, even though he hasn’t forgotten the terrible cold or the sharp pain of stones hitting his body. Subconsciously, he ran his hand through his growing out hair, tracing the small scar with his fingers.

He remembered everything but nothing was bothering him anymore. Physically at least.

It looked like Zuko really healed through this time with Mr. Xaalo and hasn’t paid much attention to the process.

“I’m fine,” he repeated again, but after he really thought about an answer Mr. Xaalo seemed satisfied. “Why are you asking? You’ve never cared before,” he said matter-of-factly.

Mr. Xaalo’s eyebrow twitched slightly after the statement as he averted his gaze. He reached for the water, poured it into the glasses, and handed one to Zuko. Then he placed a plate with food he’d prepared earlier between them. It wasn’t an ordinary dinner, just a huge plate of snacks – it still looked delicious though.

“I’m asking because I’m about to trigger your abandonment issues,” Mr. Xaalo said with a straight face. He pointed at the plate. “Sandwich? Try not to choke.”

The noble took one of the snacks, some of the green topping fell off because of the man’s shaking hand. Mr. Xaalo glared at the mess, rolled his eyes, and focused back on Zuko. He decided to stay silent, he had no idea where this whole conversation was going, and he was pretty bad at guessing Mr. Xaalo’s intentions. Zuko took the smallest sandwich from the plate and took a cautious bite.

“I’m going to state this first,” Mr. Xaalo said after he chewed. “I’m not throwing you out and you are free to decide what you want to do.”

“…But what are you talking about?” Zuko asked. He wanted to avoid guessing at all cost, he always did it wrong and then dug himself into a hole of his pleads and pathetic lie-attempts.

“I think you should move on and leave.”

At this point, the noble already knew so much about him, that Zuko decided that hiding his obvious fears wasn’t worth the effort. “I have nowhere to go,” he admitted quietly.

It sounded like a poor attempt to arouse pity but that was the truth. Mr. Xaalo was right… his abandonment issues – or whatever the man had called it were screaming.

“Why?” Zuko asked to avoid wrong guesses. Mr. Xaalo was honest, and Zuko wanted to know the truth, even if it, most likely, would hurt.

“I truly don’t mind housing you, but I don’t need a scribe anymore,” Mr. Xaalo explained. “You’ve completed all my due forms and a lot of future ones. Even with those fucking hands I will manage to take care of the rest myself.” He clenched his palms into fists to emphasize his point. “And you aren’t doing well when you have nothing to do with your fiery fingers.”

Zuko couldn’t disagree – even now, when he began to make peace with _the changes_ that had happened in his life he couldn’t just sit still. Lately, the lack of work to do has been hard. He went to the basement a couple of times or spend an evening with Mr. Xaalo, but it still wasn’t enough to occupy his mind.

At the same time, he got comfortable here – he wasn’t scared that one wrong word would mess everything, he knew that Mr. Xaalo’s words weren’t meant to truly cut. Zuko was sure that Uncle once had told him a proverb about some tree… how its roots went deeper into the soil with every day, how it had become harder to move... It was stupid, and he didn’t remember the exact point… but he felt like that tree.

When through the first days he had been ready to run at any second, now, he had his few things sorted on the small shelf in the closet.

Zuko felt good here, but at the same time, he didn’t want to stay here forever. He needed an impulse and, as always, Mr. Xaalo’s timing was on point. He looked up at the man’s face, surprised by his controlled breaths and only mildly tensed shoulders.

“I see you agree,” Mr. Xaalo said. Zuko nodded stiffly. “I’ve prepared a couple of alternatives.”

“You… you’ve been thinking about this?”

“Which part of _‘I’m not throwing you back on the streets_ you don’t get?” Mr. Xaalo asked irritated, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking at Zuko like it was stupid to ask like the answer was obvious.

Zuko felt that he was flushing but he put his best scowl and held the man’s gaze. “You aren’t exactly straightforward!” Zuko snapped, hitting the table with his palm. The only reaction from the noble was a raised eyebrow. “You are telling one thing and mean another! How am I supposed to _get_ what you mean!?” After a moment of silence when the noble was just looking at him without any visible emotion, Zuko added, “…Sir.”

That earned a chuckle from Mr. Xaalo. “You add that ‘Sir’ of yours every time your temper shows as if it magically erases everything you have said.” Zuko looked down feeling the flush climbing higher up his neck and cheeks – he has been really doing that. “You have a point though… I often speak my mind in riddles but now, especially for my dear oblivious Fire Brat, I’m trying to be blunt.”

Zuko wasn’t sure if he believed the noble or not. Something was off in this conversation from the very beginning.

“I doubt it will work as good as a month ago but stuff your mouth with food and let me speak.”

A small bowl full of fruits seemed to be the best option – Zuko wasn’t on the edge of a heart attack but he could feel the anxious feeling inside of his stomach. The change was coming, but at least it looked like it would be gentle. Zuko was sick of waking up with serious injuries in unfamiliar places. He took a small bite of a sweet fruit and looked at Mr. Xaalo.

“Would you like to come back to the Fire Nation? There’s a chance I could help with that.”

It didn’t matter what Zuko wanted… _not anymore_.

“I can’t.”

“You have to stop doing this!” Mr. Xaalo exclaimed, hitting the table lightly with his fist. Zuko jumped in his chair at the sudden noise. “Do you want me to know who you _really_ are?”

“…No,” Zuko said, looking at the noble with wide eyes. The man never asked but at this point, he was way too close to the truth.

“Then stop revealing suspicious facts when I’m not even trying to get them,” Mr. Xaalo growled, massaging his temples. “ _Can’t_ …” he parroted thoughtfully. Zuko stopped breathing. He realized how much the stupid answer revealed… The truth laid in front of Mr. Xaalo if he’d heard even one gossip… He could have… Somehow, he had to get his spice… “Is there a chance you are recognizable in your homeland? Yes or no.”

“…Yes.”

Mr. Xaalo nodded, a wrinkle appeared between his brows, he wasn’t looking at Zuko. A small part of him was curious what would have happened if the man would guess his identity, the rest was terrified. He placed his fists firmly on his lap, observing Mr. Xaalo, praying not to see a glimpse of finding the right answer.

“Toothpick is off the table then… Pity, I have a feeling that you two would get along,” Mr. Xaalo said in a nostalgic tone, a corner of his lips twitched upright.

“Who is… _Toothpick_?” Zuko asked, the weird name unfamiliar on his tongue. After the letter, he managed to forget about the weird Mr. Xaalo’s pen pal, but now the curiosity aroused again.

“Most definitely an asshole,” the noble said with a soft smile on his face, when he noticed Zuko’s confusion he came back to a more neutral expression. “An old friend of mine, he’s Fire Nation.”

First of all, how, for Agni’s sake, Mr. Xaalo had a friend in the Fire Nation? But honestly, with this man, Zuko shouldn’t have been surprised. This Toothpick guy – whoever he was – wouldn’t _‘get along’_ with Zuko, as Mr. Xaalo suspected… If he’s Fire Nation he had to know about Zuko’s disgrace, there are fucking posters with the information. His entire nation hated him – a mere excuse of a prince. There is no acceptance for traitors.

Mr. Xaalo has planned to send Zuko to his friend… He wasn’t sure what to think about it. What he was sure though… _Toothpick_ would recognize him, and then report his whereabouts. Zuko would be forced to face the Fire Lord and all the consequences of his actions.

He would be executed if not worse... Without the Avatar he couldn’t even dream about coming home.

Zuko swallowed a lump that was building in his throat. “I… I can’t go back to the Fire Nation,” he repeated, he didn’t like how his voice trembled.

Mr. Xaalo nodded, his analytical stare piercing through Zuko. “Beifongs then,” the man said, like it was a natural thought process to switch from a mysterious friend with a weird name to one of the richest noble families in the Earth Kingdom. “Rich bastards have a lot going on all the time, you wouldn’t get restless.”

“They…um, they would hire me?” he asked sheepishly. “With, well… _questionable heritage_ and all the other… _stuff_?”

The vision of working for Beifongs would be degrading and ridiculous a few months ago, but now, Zuko was interested in the option. A completely new place. He was better at blending in and acting normally than he was right after the prison. He could really make it.

“I would recommend you to them, and created you some backstory… I would also say that I know where are you from, not that I picked you from the street.”

“You… you would lie to them? For me?”

Mr. Xaalo shrugged. “Of course, with a great pleasure,” he sneered with a vicious smile. “They are fucking bastards, like everyone who’s rich, but from what I know their staff is very loyal, which means they treat them well.”

The noble told him more of what he knew about Beifongs, some of the facts Zuko already heard during his banishment. He listened carefully, picking at some food from time to time. Mr. Xaalo really focused on telling him about the general accommodation of Beifong’s staff. He also told him about the town – Gaoling – that it was much bigger than ‘this fucking hole’. Zuko shyly admitted to himself that he liked a vision that created in his mind – a lot of work, solid backstory, a blank new start.

A good _, temporary_ deal, until he figures out how to make things right.

“What do you think?” Mr. Xaalo asked after his long rant about Beifongs. “And I have some suspicions that you are deaf… so again – I am not throwing you out,” he said, making the words purposefully slow.

“I’m not deaf!” Zuko growled, glaring at the noble. His hearing was slightly off in his burned ear, but he knew that wasn’t what the man was referring to. “I – I think that’s a good idea,” he said quietly. “Not that I don’t like it here, or that I’m not grateful, or – “

“ _Spirits not again…_ ” Zuko shut his mouth, he really had a problem with going feral with his words when he had a slight doubt, he could have messed up. “Huh, that’s a change you stopped before the self-loathing.” Zuko tried to glare but the flush wasn’t making it easy. “My soft heart is filled with pride. Now, I guess we have a letter to write, don’t we?”

Zuko cleared the table when Mr. Xaalo was prepared a new coffee. He began pouring it into the cups, Zuko observed how he stopped after the half was filled with the dark liquid. He rubbed his elbow not sure how to interrupt such practiced action.

“Um… Mr. Xaalo…” he said hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“You can pour it all the way. I can take them without spilling,” he said, a shy smile forced its way onto his lips. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to brag about his recovered mobility, but it was fine too.

The noble poured it to the very edge of the cup, Zuko glared at him for that, which granted him a smug smile and a shrug. He took the cups and heated them to the point of evaporating when Mr. Xaalo wasn’t looking.

Zuko hasn’t spilled a single drop.

* * *

“Mr. Xaalo, we transport goods not people… _not teenagers_ , for spirits' sake!”

Zuko stood awkwardly clenching his staff with the one hand and toying with the clap of his bag with the other. Ho bumped him with his shoulder, the guard had noticed him and Mr. Xaalo when they were passing through the market and decided to come along. Now, he was standing beside Zuko, few steps away from Mr. Xaalo and the merchant.

“It’s gonna be good,” Ho whispered excited into Zuko’s ear. At least he was having fun… Zuko was intimidated by the vision of traveling with four men and a woman – none of them a bender. Mr. Xaalo had assured him that they had been working with him for a long time and that they could be trusted.

“We have too much to do! We don’t have time to take care of your crippled lad,” the man sighed, waving his hand in Zuko’s direction.

Mr. Xaalo smiled sharply and crossed his arms. “The _crippled lad_ can take care of himself. Don’t test his patience or he will show you what he can do with his staff.”

The merchant scowled at Zuko with caution and interest, not like before when he assumed, he would be a dead weight to his group.

“Just deliver him to Gaoling,” barked Mr. Xaalo, clearly done by the length of this conversation. “In one piece,” he emphasized. “Or I’m going to show you how unpleasant I can be. If I remember correctly my orders are over half of your entire income. Am I correct?”

The merchant clenched his teeth. “Yes, Mr. Xaalo.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Xaalo smiled falsely. “My business wouldn’t collapse without you. So, all I’m asking is to give a lovely ride to the young scribe. I’ll cover the costs.”

The man’s shoulders slumped as he rubbed his face and muttered something under his breath. He turned towards Zuko, Mr. Xaalo right after him with a smug smile on his lips.

“Lee, right?” the merchant asked. Zuko gave him a short nod. “Can you ride an ostrich horse?”

“Yes.”

The merchant wasn’t assured by the statement but under Mr. Xaalo’s stern gaze he nodded. Zuko didn’t like new eyes prying at his scar but he knew it was always like this. He had to swallow the anger and just wait through it.

“That’s reassuring…” the man said half-heartedly, scratching his head, then he turned to Mr. Xaalo. “Fine. Whatever. We will bring the kid to Gaoling, but I want to make it clear that we won’t pamper any of his _scribey_ wishes.”

“I assure you he won’t have any,” Mr. Xaalo said.

The merchant gave a short nod to Mr. Xaalo and looked at Zuko. “We leave after we pack. Be ready.”

The man returned to his group, until now, they were observing the whole conversation from the distance. Zuko knew they weren’t pleased with him being here, but it was only for three days, after that he would be in Gaoling.

“Fucking _amateur_ only pretends to be harsh,” Mr. Xaalo rolled his eyes. “A day and you will have to deal with his chatty attempts. Be careful, brat, he’s almost as bad as this one,” he said, pointing at Ho.

“What?!” the guard exclaimed and crossed his arms in faked anger. “That’s mean.”

“No shit… Now, give us a minute.”

Ho walked to the group of merchants and offered his help in packing. Zuko couldn’t understand this guy’s attitude but apparently, people liked it, after few seconds he and the merchants were laughing and patting each other’s backs.

“So…” Zuko turned towards Mr. Xaalo, the man stood with crossed arms in front of him. “Do you remember – “

“Yes,” Zuko barked, since the morning he had heard countless mockery-lectures about lying skills, his cover story, and bending. He has had enough; he’d almost memorized all of them. “I know,” he said more calmly.

For a moment they were just looking at each other, none of them saying anything. Zuko rubbed his elbow, digging a small hole in the ground with his shoe. He wasn’t used to goodbyes. His mother disappeared in a hurry, after the Agni Kai he wasn’t conscious when he left the Fire Nation, and the North Pole wasn’t supposed to be a goodbye. Mr. Xaalo wasn’t doing anything either, he stood silent just like Zuko, though without any nervous ticks.

Zuko cleared his throat. “Umm… I wouldn’t have made it if not you, and I’ve never properly thanked you for that, so um…” He straightened his back, almost putting his hands into the flame gesture of proper Fire Nation bow. “Thank you, Mr. Xaalo, for a place to stay, food, job, and um… well, _tolerance_.”

“Yeah, whatever…” Mr. Xaalo shrugged. “You were a useful spark rock, and your little speeches were really something else... I wouldn’t have thought I could stand a teenager in my house, and after all, it wasn’t that bad,” he said with a smirk. “Damn… I would even say that evenings on the porch were quite pleasant, especially after you could get us two _full_ mugs of fresh coffee.”

Zuko smiled shyly. “Yeah, it was nice.”

The merchants were almost packed, only few boxes were left on the ground next to the carriages.

“I don’t know what to say… I mean, I don’t know how it should look like… Farewells, I mean. I’m not good at them,” Zuko mumbled.

“Me neither, brat… _me neither_ ,” Mr. Xaalo sighed thoughtfully. “We aren’t exactly doing things typically.”

“I guess not…”

“We are ready!” the merchant announced, leading the smallest ostrich horse by its rains towards Zuko. “Meet Molly. She’s calm, so you shouldn’t have any problems if you really know how to ride. You can pack your things to the bag on her saddle.”

Zuko patted Molly’s beak, the animal leaned into his touch. He hadn’t ever ridden an ostrich horse, but they couldn’t be much different from comodo rhinos… At least he hoped so. He packed his bag, spare clothes, and money from Mr. Xaalo, with Ho’s help he attached his staff to the saddle, so he wouldn’t have to hold it for the entire ride.

Zuko once again looked at Mr. Xaalo giving him a stiff smile and small bow, the man returned the bow, almost in the Fire Nation style. Zuko took the reins and was about to walk to the merchants when a yell startled him.

“Are you two kidding me?!” Ho exclaimed loudly, putting his hands on his hips. “This… _this_ is a goodbye?”

Zuko was puzzled, not sure why the guard looked so furious.

“Mr. Xaalo hug your scribe. Now,” the guard ordered with a serious face, then he turned to Zuko. “Lee, chop-chop cuddle the old man.” Zuko gaped at Mr. Xaalo, who was glaring at the guard. “I’m going to show you how a goodbye should look like! Guard’s orders, come on!”

Ho grabbed Zuko’s wrist, he flinched but the guard didn’t notice when he was reaching for Mr. Xaalo’s sleeve. The noble snarled a lot of curses, shrugging Ho’s hand off his clothes. Zuko rubbed his wrist nervously, he didn’t move from the place where the guard yanked him.

“Don’t make me do it,” threatened Ho.

Mr. Xaalo took a long inhale, not looking at the guard who was grinning proudly. Then he made a step towards Zuko, slowly putting his arm around Zuko’s shoulders, for the entire motion keeping the eye-contact with him. He stood stiffly, not sure what he should do. Purposefully or not Mr. Xaalo put his arm in a way that it was barely touching Zuko’s back, his neck close to Zuko’s unscarred cheek. The warmness was nice, Mr. Xaalo’s slow breaths tickling his ear. He carefully embraced the man’s middle, not putting any real pressure into it.

It wasn’t like the bone-crushing hugs from Uncle, though it still felt nice.

“It’s painful to watch,” Ho complained, Zuko saw a motion from the corner of his bad eye and tensed.

In the next second huge arms of the earthbender squeezed the air out of his lungs. Zuko’s face was entirely pushed into Mr. Xaalo’s shoulder, a huge body trapping him without the possibility to move. He tried to step back but huge palm pressed to his back didn’t want to let him go. His breaths became ragged, he started panicking…

“Ho, fuck off!” Mr. Xaalo somehow managed to elbow the guard without causing any real harm, only a pained hiss. Zuko backed few steps away, the warm feeling in his chest mixed with a short spike of unreasonable anxiety. “Go find yourself a girl, a boy, or a fucking tree to crush, and don’t you try to put that dirt-throwing limbs anywhere close to neither of us!” he rebuked the guard, in the same time glancing at Zuko.

“Mr. Xaalo, it’s called _a hug_ ,” the guard said with fake politeness. “I couldn’t just watch how clueless you both were.”

“I wish I could set you on fire right now,” Mr. Xaalo muttered under his breath.

 _“Yeah, yeah…”_ the guard shrugged, clearly proud of himself.

“We are leaving!” the merchant yelled. “Get on the ostrich horse, boy!”

Zuko climbed on the saddle, using his slightly shaking legs – almost panic, and the weird warmness of what just happened has left him a bit shaken. From Molly’s back, he looked at Mr. Xaalo for the last time, his arms crossed on his chest, the familiar frown on his face.

“Write when you reach Beifongs,” the noble said. “I have to know if I should pay the other half to your _travel companions_.”

“Yes, Sir,” Zuko nodded, clenching the reins in his fists. “Thanks… Again. Really, I mean it. And bye.”

“Goodbye, brat.”

* * *

Ho wasn’t sure if Mr. Xaalo wouldn’t strangle him the first second, he saw him, after a couple days ago he manually introduced him to the concept of hugs. He still couldn’t believe how those two, clearly fond of each other, couldn’t say goodbye like normal people.

The rich man was sitting on his porch, Ho carefully climbed the stairs, ready to defend at any second. The noble wasn’t in a fighting mood, but of course, he greeted him with a glare. Ho had some Gilo-related business to discuss but a small item on the table took him off guard.

A small flowery cup. Mr. Xaalo drinking from a cup with flowers on it. Colorful, little flowers. Mr. Xaalo – the grumpiest man alive. _Flowers!?_

“Fine, now I am clueless… Did I misjudge your taste? I thought you would be more of the type black-as-my-coffee, not more-flowery-than-my-garden…” The noble rolled his eyes and took a sip. “Why?” Ho asked totally perplexed.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, YOU ALL WHO THOUGHT I WOULD BE A SADIST (again) IT WAS AS GENTLE AS I AM PHYSICALLY CAPABLE!
> 
> Woah... almost 80k... that's a lot, right?  
> Yes - I want to make a continuation :D Though some comments would really fuel my creativity.... just saying.
> 
> DAMN, it was a long Zuko Alone but not really journey. I would really like to get nostalgic with you in the comments. Damn thanks for reading this monstrous story about nice families, mean old men, and some other additional guests.
> 
> Check the arts of MariDarkMoon! https://renegadeoftheworld.tumblr.com/ And check the story about Song, placed in this universe (this one is linked below)
> 
> Oh! and many people were ploting something with wanted posters... It looks like this - Zuko is officially wanted on FN theritory, that is main islands and colonies, there are no posters in the EK. His escape from Fong's prison was kept quiet. 
> 
> Hmmm, I'm sure I forgot over half what I wanted to say. Well, COMMENT and let's chat about the chapter - my soft old man, clueless Zuko, and hug master Ho! 
> 
> If you were enjoying the story and never commented that's the best (and last) occasion. seriously don't be shy and give a poor tired (and frustrated by the end of this journey) writer a smile :)))))
> 
> Thank you all for reading!!!!! 
> 
> *disappears into the comments section, _not stressed at all..... ___
> 
> _  
> _ps. yes, the last line is a shamelessly stolen movie quote... wink to you if you _get it _____  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Survivor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617917) by [deutschistklasse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deutschistklasse/pseuds/deutschistklasse)




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